


Finding Sammy

by Deadmockingbirds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (made up by Mock), Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angel mating practices, Angel/Human Relationships, Angels, Angels giving baths, Angels owning humans, Angst, Blood, Blood Magic, Child Abuse, Collars, Corporal Punishment, Creative Cas Punishments, Dangerous Cas, Dark, Dark Castiel (Supernatural), Demon/Human Relationships, Discipline, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Dominant Castiel, Dragons, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Forced Worship, Gay Sex, Gen, Intense discipline scenes, Jealousy, M/M, Mating with angels, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Multi, Non-Consensual Spanking, Obedience, Oral Sex, Other, Physical Abuse, Posessive Cas, Possessive Behavior, Post-Apocalypse, Protective Dean Winchester, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Strict Cas, Submissive Dean, Super fucking dark, Top Castiel, Whipping, Whipping implements, bottom!Dean, but with all the gruff we love him for, children hearing violence/abuse, forced prayer, otk spankings, submissive behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 123,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadmockingbirds/pseuds/Deadmockingbirds
Summary: When the end of civilization happened, Dean prepared himself for it, and was happy for it to be him and Sammy come what may.  Only the real end of the world happened when Lucifer took Sam.  Dean had to make hard choices that would help him get Sam back, falling in love in the process.  Mating to the angel Castiel means life can never go back to how it was before Sam was taken even if they do find Sam, which is seeming more unlikely with each passing year.  But Brotherly love isn't the only reason to find Sam.  Sam bonding with Lucifer could mean the end of the end for the human species.





	1. Have a Little Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Time for me to blasphemy yet another one of my favorite childhood classics. This time, I'm only really cherry-picking a few things from the story that inspired this one. Most of it comes from my crazy brain, and I have been possessed with it. I wrote over 12 K in a day, which is like the good ol' days. Sorry, I promise I am not bragging, this is to assure everyone that a NEW fic will not pull away from my others. #MockMachine is officially back. 
> 
> I've got a chapter for WW ready to go (just going to quickly finish off the next two and then I will post). 
> 
> I've almost finished a chapter for CoH as well. 
> 
> Things are happening. 
> 
>  
> 
> But onto the new one. This is a **dark** story, and a writing challenge for me. I'm going to push my abilities *and* my boundaries. I want to, this is completely by choice. I want to grow as a writer, I think I can with this story in a similar way to when I wrote My Husband's rules. Haven't posted something this dark in awhile, so *deep breath* I'm really scared and really excited all at once. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, and THIS is the story I've waited for a long while. I could feel it itching at my brain, wanting to form. Suddenly, there is was. 
> 
> ...so here it is.

_When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain. And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain._

 

He throws it at my feet.

"You lost it Dean. What did I say would happen to you the next time you lost it?"

Irrationally I have to check for myself. My hand scrambles to where the amulet usually sits, at the base of my throat. And fuck. It's gone, or it was anyway. Now it's at my god damn feet. My heart races and my nerves light up with fear. It's not good to show Cas too much fear, just like it's not good to show him too little. There's an amount and I'm familiar with it. Doesn't mean what I feel inside won't change from time to time, up and down that scale, but I've gotten good at showing the right amount.

I steel myself, to show said right amount now. It's hard though, when you know you're about to have the ever-loving fuck beat out of you. "C-Cas. Fuck. I'm sorry." I don't know how the fuck I lost it. I constantly check for it. Cas doesn't care about my apology, or excuses. He's already undoing his belt.

"Don't you want to find your brother, Dean?"

"I do." I can't help eying the strip of leather in his hand, watching his every move with it. I can take a beating, I'm used to pain, but the way Cas doles out punishment is maddening, not to mention it fucking hurts.

"Drop your pants, over this," he says pointing to a thick log that's super gnarly looking. I take a shaky breath. It's been weeks maybe months—I've lost track—of walking through the brush, hacking new trails, so we can stay hidden among the trees, and away from danger.

It's not as cold as I thought it would be, and as much walking, as we do, I sweat too much to really notice if it's cold anyway. But right now, a chill floods my body, as I comply with Cas's orders—you don't fuck around when Cas gives an order—and I have to find the last bit of peace in my center to keep from shaking too badly.

I undo the buckle of my belt, fingers still trembling no matter how much I try to still them. I slide it out of the loops, and hang it over the log then slide both my black traveling pants, and boxers down my legs until they drop at my feet. Gingerly, I lay myself over the log that's teaming with tiny splinters I'm going to be picking out of my skin later. I position myself best as I can, presenting all my vulnerable parts to him.

"How many did you get the last time?"

"One hundred, sir." One hundred had been a challenge, and by the end, I was more wiped than I'd ever been after a punishment. Cas doesn't always punish to this degree, but this is a big one, something he'd warned me about. I knew the consequences would be severe. Angels are strong believers in discipline, Cas considers my discipline of upmost importance and besides, he's a bit of a sadistic fucker—most angels are to varying degrees.

"Apparently that wasn't enough. How many did I say it would be this time?"

His memory is perfect. He remembers, he just wants to see if I do, probably finding it hard to believe I could make this mistake a third time. Where the _fuck_ did I lose it? I have to school my breathing, so I don't have a freaking panic attack, because the thought of how many is overwhelming. "T-Two hun-hundred, sir."

From the corner of my eye, I can see him give a firm nod. "Two hundred. Let this be enough—I don't think your paltry human skin could take much more than that. As is, I will be removing some of it." Cas can heal the skin enough to go as long as he wants, he's just making a point. He lets his words sink in, able to sense the fear peeling off me, letting me feel the vulnerability of my exposed parts, making all of it part of the lesson. No one is here to witness, but that doesn't rule out that someone _could_ and the embarrassment of that idea washes through me anyway. _Now would be a great time for a demon attack._ But even the chances of that in this moment are unlikely. "Count."

He lays in the first fifty never varying his pace, never letting up for a fucking second, or giving me a break. Every single one of them hurts exactly the same amount and that amount is a-fucking-lot. He doesn't stay at my ass either, laying stipe after stripe down the backs of my thighs. While all of it fucking stings, it's nothing compared to what it's going to feel like. "Do you not want to find your brother?" he says again, finally pausing, allowing me to breathe.

"I-I do, sir. Cas, please. I already said I did. I'll take better care it." I'm panting, hard. I'll promise him the fucking moon and stars if he'll just stop whacking me with his fucking painful belt of evil.

"That necklace is everything, you lose it and we lose everything. No God, no Sam, no Earth."

"I-I-I know."

The next fifty are every bit as terrible as I remember from the first time he whipped me for losing the necklace. Fifty of Cas's best are difficult. One hundred feels impossible. Counting gets hard when you get up in numbers. Your brain gets confused. I'm doing my best not to cry out, Cas doesn't like too much theatrics, but it gets harder as we get into the hundreds. I can feel my skin wearing thin, and already the bruises are making themselves known. I can take a lot of pain, but this is going beyond my threshold.

"One-One hundred and fi-five!" My voice and legs are shaking, and I'm hastily wiping tears I can't hold back. I can't… I can't hold still anymore, and my shirt's ridden up enough the splinters are digging into the skin of my torso. My body, naturally, wants to get out of the target range. I have to fight to stay under the lash of his strap.

"Ahhhh! One! One hundred and seventeen!" I cry out. That's the one that breaks me. I can't stay quiet after that, I cry out every time. If he's annoyed, he doesn't say. At One twenty-six, realizing there are _still_ seventy-four more, I start to beg through snot and tears. "Cas, please. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I can't take anymore. Please, stop." Take some fucking mercy on me dude.

"You will. Don't you dare get up, Dean," he says without missing a beat. "Get up even once, and we'll start again."

He will, he will do that, and he's got ways of holding me in place if I can't do it myself. I cry at my helplessness, and the pain. "Ahhh! One huh-hun-hu'dred and thirty-seven. One hundred and thirty-eight!" The sting of each _whack_ jolts my entire nervous system by this point. "Caaas, please. Please stop."

You can count on Cas to use the same tempo, and strength behind his swings, unless you do something to piss him off. My begging is pissing him off. _Crack!_ _Crack!_ _Crack!_ The next twelve are harder than the first one hundred and thirty seven, and so I stop begging for a time, but silence isn't happening and I'm almost screaming. When he stops at One fifty, I don't for a second think he's letting me off the last fifty, and I shiver wondering what he'll do now.

"Up," he says.

I almost fall over, scrambling to obey forgetting my pants are at my ankles. He grabs my arm catching me. "Thanks," I say through tears and trembling. Cold. Why does it suddenly feel so cold?

"We're almost done," he says softly. "Step out of those. Lie on your back now."

Oh God. My front, he's out of skin on the back of me, he's going to use my front. "Cas, I can't." I don't mean to say that, it slips out.

It irritates him, but he doesn't get mad. "You can. You're the strongest human I've ever seen."

I'm in no headspace to digest a compliment, I'm just glad he's not mad at me for begging.

He helps me this time, to lie on top of the log. Splinters and gnarly roots dig into the places that have broke open on my backside, and I look at him pleadingly, but don't say a word. He knows it hurts and that's the point. Cas is an angel, they don't think of things like we do. In his mind, I was careless, and irresponsible. Two things worthy of extreme punishment—why wouldn't I want to be corrected? Why wouldn't I want Cas to help me stay the path? Angels can't fathom not wanting the very best discipline in such situations.

Once I'm in position he starts and I thank fuck that Cas _is_ an angel with angel precision, but he does have to remind me. "You need to stay still. I can only promise not to catch anything important if you hold still."

Anything important is my dick and balls, which Cas is fond of.

In a fucked up way, this is kindness. It's going to hurt like a sonuvabitch, but a whole lot less than the pain that was becoming intolerable on my backside. The first hits the center of my quad, and it's still enough I have to cry out even though it's a 'new' spot, since all of the pain has reached a giant crescendo in my body, but I know I can take the last fifty, and that I can stay still enough not to have my balls strapped off, or at least damaged badly enough Cas will have to heal them.

We reach two hundred, and I don't die, but the shaking doesn't stop, nor do the tears. "Where is, where is it?" I ask panicked, just this side short of sobbing.

"I've got it. Put your pants back on, and I will return it to you," he says replacing his belt.

I don't know how I'm going to do that, but first things first: I need to get up. I can't without falling off the log, and I land on my knees in the dirt, which is not fun on the welts surrounding my knees. Cas comes over to help, help I refuse this time. I don't want to appear as the weak human he thinks I am—and yeah, I know he said I was the strongest human he's ever encountered, but strongest human is still fucking weak to an angel. I do use the log to help me up, but I'm a bit disoriented and I forget to grab my pants, which are on the ground.

I have to bend over to pick them up feeling dizzy, like I'll pass out, Cas watching me. I know I'm bleeding, but Cas didn't say _clean yourself up and put your pants on_ , he just said to put the pants on. Other times, I'm a brazen asshole, but for this I follow his instructions to the letter.

I slide my pants on, grateful for how loose they've become out on the road. I've managed to keep a nice amount of muscle, but I'm lean as fuck, and have lost a few pounds not eating so much pie and burgers from diners.

_Fuck would I love a burger right now._

The only thing bothering me clothing-wise, is the elastic of my boxers, digging into some of the welts that made it up my hip bones and back. I try to wipe my face, I must look like a fucking mess full of dirt and blood and wet from tears, but I doubt it does much. Probably just smudges the dirt around.

He comes over to fuss with my hair, an oddly attentive gesture, in contrast to the violence that just occurred, before placing the necklace around over my head. "C'mon now, don't look like that. You know I don't particularly enjoy when being that severe is required, but I will do what's necessary." Cas _is_ a fucking sadist, but yeah, I suppose his tastes are not near what I've seen some angels enjoy, _Like Lucifer. The same fucking Lucifer that's got Sammy,_ and while he won't hesitate to do what he feels necessary, what he just did isn't his favorite.

I don't say anything as he fishes my jacket out of my pack, but he can read my face. "You're shivering," he says. "And we have to keep moving. I will make sure you are able to get some rest tonight."

I nod, and accept the jacket. Cas is probably right. And while he won't hesitate to beat me to a pulp, he has my interests in mind, even if in his own angel way.

We walk on and it's not fun. My right leg hurts, I'm limping some, but not enough it prohibits me walking. I can keep going, and I do. I don't complain, but I fucking check on that amulet, boy do I fucking check on the amulet.

~**~

We walk a long time. Cas must have a destination in mind. Sometimes he shares it with me and sometimes he doesn't. When we approach the Community, I'm fucking tired. My whole body hurts, and with pain always comes added exhaustion. Doesn't stop me from lighting up inside out. Cas hasn't brought me to a Community in months.

So yeah. Despite the tired and the aching, I smile at Cas. He knows how much I love staying at these places. There are rules though, and I know them well. "Can I, can I help?" He knows what I mean. _Can I help in the infirmary—if there's one?_ It's my favorite place within my favorite place.

"First prayers, a bath, and food. Then you may."

It's the best deal I'm going to get.

You can't just walk into these places, but it hasn't been a problem for Cas and I so far. Cas is well-known among these communities, revered, and respected. If not for his friendly demeanor (I know friendlier pits of lava), for his ability to do a job, and well; not to mention he's an angel and angels are prized by humans and angels alike. He flashes our two sets of ID, both with gold seal standings, and we are permitted entry _just like that_. "Long journey?" asks the man handing us each a blanket, and meal token. Cas doesn't need either the man knows, but it's considered polite. Cas accepts both with the intention I'll use them, passing both off to me.

"Yes. My mate is tired, could you point us to the church, and bath?" Cas asks, not wanting to give him any details. Cas trusts no one. He barely trusts me half the time.

The man gives Cas directions and I follow two steps behind Cas, doing a perfunctory check to see the necklace is still secured around my throat. It's there and I relax some. Their church isn't a building, but a room set up with the typical paraphernalia you might expect— Jesus on a cross, God looking Godly staring down on you, candles that are too tall, and rows of pews. It's weird because all this crap at least made some kind of sense, back when there were various organized religions. That's all gone now, but because of angel influence, we're all required to worship _God_ , no specific divination available; God who has yet to show his stupid face.

I concluded long ago that the angels recognize the value in symbols, and allow us humans to use whatever floats our boat.

Prayers are not an option though. Cas will do them anywhere, but he prefers these places of worship, claiming they are stronger places to talk to God since they've seen many prayers throughout the day, sorta like a stronger radio signal. I don't know if that's true, but arguing about it's off the table, and a waste of energy.

It's quiet, save for one human, knelt on one of the prayer benches behind a pew. Cas lowers one of the prayer benches and kneels, as I follow suit kneeling beside him—no easy task with all the aches in my body. "Forgiveness," he instructs, and I try not to bristle. I did fuck up. I paid for it, though. It's embarrassing having to hear about it again, but Cas says prayer is the only path to forgiveness, and forgiveness is the path to love and enlightenment. If all of this gets my brother back then I might consider becoming a believer, but until that time I do what Cas says _only_ so he doesn't beat my ass, or worse. He's not stupid though, he knows I hate this shit.

"Father, today I ask for forgiveness. I was careless with your gift to me. It was a sin against you, it was a sin against Cas." I always include Cas when asking for forgiveness. Cas elbows me. "It was a sin against, _the angel Castiel._ Please help me turn from the ill-behavior of carelessness and irresponsibility. Please forgive me, and help me grow. Thank you for your love and mercy. Thank you for forgiving me and choosing to forget my sin. In Jesus's name, Amen."

Cas is pleased, and takes over with a prayer for gratefulness and asks for _His_ continued grace on our journey. Cas must be His favorite fucking kid if _He_ really is watching out for us, because we probably should both be dead by now. Either that, or it's my aptitude with a demon knife, and Cas's ability to be Cas (he's a fucking bad ass). I'm going with me, and a demon knife, and bad-ass Cas.

"Bath," he reminds me, when he deems us done. I wrinkle my nose not looking forward to that. The Bath Houses in these places are typically public, and I don't like people to see me all bruised up and I've got to be sixty shades of purple. Cas on the other hand, loves for people to see how well he disciplines his mate.

"Where will you be?" I ask not really wanting to be away from him. I'm not scared to be alone, I can hold my own in any place, I just don't _like_ being away from him.

"You know I can find you." That's Cas for none of your business. I huff my displeasure, and turn to leave, but he pulls me back by the waistband of my pants. I'm no small guy, but he makes it look easy, handling me like a doll—his doll. He pulls me to him, the back of my body against the front of his, as people scurry around us, _pretending_ to pay no mind—no one's ever been able to pay Cas and I 'no mind'. I'm told we fascinate the un-fascinate-able.

It hurts as he presses into my bruises, but I get a twisted sort of comfort from it all hissing as my cock perks up. My cock loves the violence, and the pain even if I'd rather it didn't. Cas digs a hand into my hair, yanking my head back, positioning his hand tight against my skull. Cas can do any number of things to me in this position, and he has, ranging from really fucking awesome, to really fucking _not_ awesome. I hold my breath briefly, then let it go slowly, as he turns my head just enough he can press his lips to mine. He slides his tongue in making a display for all that I belong to him, showing everyone how well I submit, and behave for him, and I do. I'm typically a very good boy for him. The display is just as much for me, so I can take this feeling with me while he's gone; he knows how I feel about him being away from me. "Bath Dean," he says releasing me.

He's barely done anything to me, and I can hardly breathe. I force myself to take a breath as I walk away, still holding onto the blankets.

It's a long way to the Bath House, on the other side of the Community, and it's a bit of a madhouse. A girl is there handing out towels, helping direct traffic. I'm given a towel, now holding the towel and a blanket, my pack on my back, standing in a line that feels like it's moving slower than the last season of Days of Our Lives, I can remember. It's aggravating, especially when I want nothing more than to collapse. I consider, only for a moment, forfeiting a bath, and making my way back here in the morning when it will be quieter. It's only a fleeting thought. Cas was clear, and he'll only drag me back here after punishing me again.

When I finally get to the bathing area, there's another girl to help me, which seems unnecessary. "Hey, the name's Jo. I'll take those." She divests me of the towel and blankets before I can stop her, hanging the towel on a hook, and setting my blankets down on a bench, she aggressively helps me remove my pack. I'm not used to others touching me anymore, even unintentionally in passing. Cas has a firm no touching Dean rule that's become legendary enough I get a wide berth most places. Her forwardness surprises me—she must know by now who I am, and who I came with, news spreads like wildfire in these communities—but she doesn't appear to give a fuck.

I begin doing the thing I really don't want to do, and undress in front of a complete stranger, hanging my both of my shirts on the hook beside the towel, collecting my courage before I remove my pants. I don't know how it looks back there. I get an idea when Jo's eyes go wide. "Holy Moses, what did you do?"

"How do you know all that bruising ain't from wrestling a demon, huh?"

"There are very distinct welt marks there—I'd say this was a belt. Leather."

"None of your fucking business," I snap, and grab the towel off the hook, tying it around my waist to cover as much as possible.

"Look, chill. I only know because, look." She peels down her pants just enough to show me her own welts, peeking up over her hipbones. "I belong to an angel too, and she is unrelenting."

I nod, stiffly.

She ends up feeling sorry for me, which is unnecessary. "Hey look, I've got the hook up here, I can get you into a private bath—follow me."

Unnecessary, but I'm grateful for such an offer, and am willing to risk Cas's disapproval for going off alone with this stranger for a private bath. She picks up my clothing, and recently acquired blankets and leads me to the private bathing section. "Technically you count as being allowed in here. This place is for angels and their mates. You're not with your angel, but you don't have to be." She winks at me. "But also technically, your angel should have requested it. I'll pretend I misunderstood."

"Won't you get in trouble for that?"

She shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not." She doesn't seem to care, so I don't trouble myself with worrying over her, trusting she can handle the trouble she decides to get herself into. I want the private bath, I want it so bad.

She moves to the tub and begins filling it with water by using her free hand to turn on a tap, like _Before_. "You have running water here?" I ask, impressed.

"Yup," she says. "This Community's been here since the beginning of, well, _After_. We've got a lot of angels contributing to this Community now, they installed the running water. We're still not as fancy as Gabriel's Community, but we're doing well."

I watch amazed. I haven't seen running water in a long while. I think it's been since last summer when Cas and I stopped in at the Community run by the Archangel Gabriel, which is a long ways south of this place. "Thank you for this, Jo." I enjoy watching the steam rise from the clean water filling the large tub. Some places with private baths, don't have running water and have to be filled manually. You don't always get clean water that way, left to use the last person's dirty bath water sometimes unless your angel requests fresh stuff. Sometimes environmentally conscious, stingy, angels don't see the need and find it wasteful. But this water is gorgeous, and clean, almost has a magical blue tinge to it like angel grace.

She hangs my clothes she was holding onto for me, as the bath fills. "Oh here, let me take that too," she says reaching for my necklace.

I grab her wrist before she ever lays a finger on it, and throw it away, _far_ away from my amulet and from me. She shouldn't be so familiar with me anyway. "That stays on."

Jo doesn't seem the kind of woman to scare easily, but she's got an edge of terror in her eyes now. "Sorry. I'll leave you to it then."

I've never been a cordial sort of fellow; I'm likely even less so these days. It's not entirely my fault; most of my time is spent with the less-friendlier than lava, hard-assed angel, who still can't seem to grasp the concept of a joke. Not to mention, the stuff Cas and I do is dangerous, most of our time is spent looking over our shoulders; not a lot of time for relaxation and friendliness.

Right. Now to get in the bath. I can't see what's there, no mirror around, but I can _feel_ every place Cas's lash landed. I know he was deliberate and calculated. Godly sort of stuff is exacting, anyone who's read the bible has got to admit if the stuff in there is true, it's not exactly for the faint of heart. Speaking of which, Cas refuses to tell me which things in there are true, and which are wild interpretations. He says the essence is there, and that's what's important, and why he makes me read from that horrible little book. And whoa will I be sorry if I damage or lose it.

All of this is to say, Cas is deliberate with what he calls my discipline, and I know when I sink into the hot bath, it's going to be beautiful relief, preceded with feeling every single place Cas thought to whip me. I hang my towel, and step into the tub, slipping my left leg in first. The front and back of it stings, the back more so—that's where the deepest welts are. I give it some time, as the pain dulls to a light throb, not looking forward to putting the rest of me in the tub, but relishing in the pleasant sensation the heat gives my wounds.

Next, I go for my right leg, the worst of the two, and cry out when it hits the water. It fucking hurts, and I haven't even got to my ass yet, which I know is a disaster. Cas doesn't have to worry about things like infection with me—he would spare the use of grace to heal me if it were to come to that. It's not that there's any short supply of it within him, but grace carries a signature that can be traced for a time after it's used, and on the road is a bad time to reveal where we are. Ironically, it's why we don't often come to places like this, where we're seen, even though Communities are the safest place to be.

When I get over the pain of the hot water seeping into the welts of my right leg, it's time to bite it, and sit my ass down in the water. _Fuck._ I grip both sides of the tub, take a deep breath, focus on how awesome it will feel afterward, and lower myself all at once into the gorgeous water. I have to bite my lip _hard_ to keep from screaming, as the pain washes through me. As my breathing tries to escalate, I force myself to take slow, long breaths, and think about _sunny days in the grass, working on my car, Sammy, pie…_

The pain does subside, and feels good, _really_ fucking good when it does, which always amazes me. How can you feel like you want to die one minute, and then like you're in heaven the next?

In any case, I'm able to relax enough I close my eyes, and drift away thinking about easier days when it was just Sammy and I, driving down the road in the Impala. I jump when I open my eyes. Cas is there, leaned against the wall, watching me like he's solving a puzzle, one he's in awe of, with what looks like a pair of black pants folded over his arm. "Cas?"

"Found you. You want to explain how you managed this?"

Oh right. The _private_ bath. I am known to, on occasion, flirt my way into beneficial situations. Something Cas is begrudgingly okay with, when necessary, but not at all okay with any other time. I doubt he would find this necessary—no, I know he wouldn't. "I swear, Cas. I didn't even bat an eyelash."

He knows I'm telling the truth. "Lucky for you I've already heard a wave of _oh my god have you seen how hot the new guy is_ run through the Community. Everyone is taken with you, as usual."

"How do you know they're not talking about you?" Cas is handsome. Not just handsome either, he's fucking beautiful with the firm sense of how dangerous he is wrapped tight around him, and seeping out at you, all at the same time. Humans claim not to desire that, but they do desire it like they need air to breathe. Otherwise, all angels would have to force their mates to bond with them, and they seldom have to.

"Because I don't have dreamy green eyes," Cas deadpans coming into the room. He's angry, not with me, but that doesn't matter. It's little solace when it's consuming me, and I'm the one that will pay for the fancy of others. He places the pants on top of the stack of blankets, and proceeds to hang his jacket—a khaki trench coat—where my clothes are. "Your face is still dirty." He rolls up his sleeves and grabs a cloth off the shelf behind the bath then kneels down beside me dipping the cloth in the water.

"Hadn't got 'round to washin' yet. Was enjoying hot water."

Cas wrings out the cloth and washes my face for me. It's surprising how gentle he can be when he chooses to. When he deems my face clean enough, he begins washing my hair. There's an empty pitcher on a lone table, and various washing liquids around the bath, which he uses. In another time, when I was someone else, I would have balked at the fact that someone, another grown adult, was bathing me. This Dean, the Dean I have become, basks in the care.

It stings some when soap gets at the various places of my body that broke open earlier, but it's not that bad, not bad enough to take me out of the comfort I'm feeling even though I'm acutely aware of Cas's anger. Cas's anger is something to be scared of, and I wisely am. I'm also mildly amused, only Cas can be enraged and lovingly bathe me at the same time. "Maybe I should cage this up," he says lifting my penis, which has been hard since I opened my eyes to see Cas standing there. "If you should sleep with even one human, I wouldn't be able to help myself, I would kill them. Slowly. In front of as many people as possible, so they would know not to touch you."

_I have no doubt he would._

"I never would, Cas."

"Don’t you have anything to say about me caging this?"

"Would it matter if I did?" I open one eye to peek at him; I already know the answer.

"No."

No. Cas does as he pleases with me. That's the deal between a human and an angel; my opinion is neither here nor there. I seldom argue, but I am prone to complain from time to time. Maybe that's what Cas was looking for, but I'm too blissful to worry about that which I have no control over.

Whatever my reasons, it's the right move, and Cas smiles pleased; I feel his anger ebbing. He's happy I've accepted my place with him and submit readily unlike how it was in the beginning, but on occasion, he's just as happy for me to fight him. It would never do for Cas to have a mate who _only_ rolled over for him. He would have disposed of such a mate by now. He demands obedience, but he enjoys the challenge of taming me.

He doesn't mention whether he was serious about the cock-caging thing, or not. I open my eyes to see him pull a stool close, and sit near me. "This what you wanted?" he asks, and I know what he means. Cas is as dangerous to me as he is anyone else, but there's still nowhere else I feel more safe and relaxed. And I was relaxed before, but now, I could fall asleep—I wanted him near me. Somehow, the threat of constant danger and violence brings me peace. I can feel the hum of it, and it balances everything else within me. Maybe it's because that edge is what makes me feel alive?

I don't close my eyes though, wanting to stare at him. Falling in love with Cas, was an idea as good as jumping in front of a moving car on fire, filled with angry scorpions, but here I am. I've never regretted it. I nod, humming my approval.

"I have some good news for you, as well," Cas says.

"Oh?"

"They've been through here, he was with them."

My heart picks up pace. _Sammy._ Sammy was with them he means. We haven't had a solid lead on my brother in some time, and I was beginning to lose hope we'd ever find him alive, or at all. It's been years, too many fucking years without him. "How long ago?" Just because I treat information on Sam with less solemnity than I used to, doesn't mean I don't want it.

"Several months back, just before the spring."

I grip the amulet hanging from its leather throng. "H-How did he look?" I fucking hate knowing the answer to that, because if I don't know, I can fool myself, but holding a delusion like that isn't fair to Sammy. In any case, Cas will decide how much about that I need to know, he won't always give me every gory detail, but I can usually fill in the blanks.

Cas shakes his head. "Not good I'm afraid."

 _Fucking Lucifer._ I'll kill him, find a way to bring him back to life and kill him again.

"Stop. I know what you're thinking, and you know I can't let you near Lucifer."

"Then remind me why we're bothering to look at all?" I say and don't hide how much it pisses me off.

"Watch it. I'm happy to discipline you for disrespect. I have many creative ways of making you sorry."

Cas really is too fucking creative for my own good. "Sorry, sir." I make sure to show enough contrition. Cas has that look in his eye, like he'd really like to beat something; all the better if it's me. I rephrase more respectfully. "But I do have trouble understanding the point, if I can't kill him." We don't know for sure, but all signs say they—Sam and Lucifer— _have_ to be mated by now, and the only way to break such a bond is to kill one, or both of the mates.

He stands abruptly enough, I think I've pissed him off, but he's only grabbing my towel. "Out. Now."

Carefully, aware of every move Cas makes, I slip out of the bath, dripping all over the floor. Cas kneels to dry me, starting from my feet. "I told you I would handle that part." He did tell me, but he won't tell me just how he's intending to do it, and it's driving me crazy. "After all this time, you still won't have even just a little faith?" I don't answer that, unsure of the answer myself. He pats up my legs, and takes a little time rubbing up into my crotch, which my dick likes a lot. When he reaches my ass, he inspects it, and supposedly satisfied, he moves onto dry my torso, shoulders and hair.

I'm sure Cas cares about me in the angel sense of what it means to care about another creature, but I know it's not the same as when a human cares for another human. I'm still, even now, getting a sense of what that means for an angel to care for you, but is it love? It doesn't bother me one-way or the other if it is, or not, even if it's something I ponder from time to time. It's more one of my many curiosities about the way angels work over anything else. I know I'm the center of Cas's universe, and that's enough for me.

"I was able to get you a new pair of these," he says standing to reach into the pocket of his coat, and hands me a fresh pair of white boxers.

That's another little relief. I wasn't looking forward to putting on my used pair, which I'm sure are caked with dried blood. "I'm sure you noticed the new pants," he says.

"I did. Thanks, Cas." Cas likes to get me things in the same way a dragon likes to collect gold. I'm wrapped in the towel now, as I accept the new underwear. I dress with Cas watching me, and leave the soiled clothing in the bin by the door, where I'm sure they'll get washed and passed onto someone else to use.

With no mirror, I can't properly fix my hair, so I run my hands through it a few times, as Cas slings his jacket over his shoulder. I put my pack on, and gather the blankets. "Come, and eyes down."

I roll my eyes, as Cas starts walking and he can't see me. He's jealous. He doesn't want people to see my, what did they call them? Dreamy green eyes? Plus, looking down is subservient. He wants there to be no mistake I'm his and that I bow to him. It's ridiculous. We're _bonded_ for Pete's sake. I suppose that doesn't stop someone killing Cas (like anyone could) or me fucking someone else (I'm not stupid enough to put someone's life at risk that way), but despite my arguments otherwise, Cas hates having to contend with people lusting after me. Looking is one thing, but when he senses too many people want to bone me, or have me bone them, he becomes impossible.

I feel their lust, all the way though the Community, and any of Cas's rage I cooled, is back in full force, making me curse every last one of them – and my good looks. When we reach the room (the private room) we've been given for the night, Cas is like a live wire. "Undress, now Dean." His eyes are like two blue sapphires on fire. It's terrifying.

I toss my bag to the floor and lay the blankets on one of the unmade cots, moving to undress, as quickly as possible. Even through my fear, I'm hard as stone, my cock ready for him. He approaches me, and I make sure to even out my breathing, showing exactly the right amount of fear. I hold still, knowing any sudden move could set him off—it's not unlike dealing with the instincts of a lion, any small movement triggering an attack response. I've learned this the hard way with Cas. In past, I've attempted running, or backing away slowly, or making myself small. All bad ideas. Even though my heart is racing, I force myself against my instincts, and hold still as I can, making myself big, presenting myself in a way that tells him I'm going to do whatever he desires.

He looks me over appraising all the marks he left on me today, and if I didn't already have them covering every inch of me, he would be adding more. He still might decide to.

I flinch when his fingers reach out to trace along the welts and bruises he created, enjoying them, enjoying the way I flinch. Humans would call Cas a sadist, and so do I. He _likes_ giving pain, _enjoys_ the screams, the marks the bruises. However, Cas doesn't consider himself a sadist, just an angel being an angel—giving pain, _discipline_ is an intrinsic part of being an angel.

I shiver as he ever so lightly drags his fingers down the rise of my left glute, and I cry out, for a brief moment, when he grabs onto it to bring me closer, and scream into his mouth as he kisses me and digs harder into my ass cheek. Pain is often a poor indicator for damage to the body. Sometimes the pain you feel is indicative of what's happened to you, and sometimes you're badly injured with no pain at all. As Cas continues to kiss me, I forget how much it hurts to have his fingers clawing into the welts of my ass, and lose myself to him.

In a quick motion, Cas lifts me to him, my legs grip his waist as we continue to kiss, our tongues colliding, lips pressing, sucking, and biting. I feel Cas reach down to undo his pants, and pull out his cock. Cas presses to fingers inside me, and with only a few pumps, I'm slick with the lubricant my body makes there now. It's a handy side effect of mating with an angel. There are a few. Cas still considers me human, and by angel standards I am, but once you've mated with an angel, you change inside, enough that humans don't really consider you one of them anymore. I don't know what I consider myself anymore and waver between human and whatever funky race I've become now. All I know is that neither race, human, nor angel, gives you status with them beyond the careful respect required for the mates of angels.

The natural lubricant allows his cock to slide in easily, and he presses me up against the wall, sliding in and out of me. Fuck. His cock is unreal. I had sex a lot _Before_ , but it was never like this, like it is with Cas. I don't know if mating makes you addicted to your mate's cock, like you become addicted to their presence, but I suspect there's at least some element of that with the way I need him—especially once I'm riding his cock.

No human would have ever been able to own me so wholly as Cas can. I'm a large guy made stronger and larger with mating, but what I have pales to Cas. I'm light as a feather to him, he can throw me around like a rag doll, and he does. I fucking love it.

I feel the welts in my back stinging now and then, as he slams me into the wall, his cock pumping in and out of me. When we're joined like this, I get to feel all of Cas. It might not seem so, and it's easy for me to forget when he's looking at me like he's going to break every bone in my body, but Cas has a beautiful energy that feels like all my favorite things melded together— _sunny days in the grass, working on my car, Sammy, pie…_

I want to come so badly, I'm sure my dick is going to explode, but this round isn't for me, it's for him and what he calls his baser angel needs. He needs to possess me, and fill me, no guarantee he'll let me come. I'm keening, telling him without asking him what I want. _Hoping._ Cas can read me like a fucking book. "No," he says dashing my hopes and dreams. I try not to want to punch him.

Denying me is hot as fuck to him (and to me if I'm honest), and it's what sends him over, and he fills me with the silvery, incandescent angel jizz. I can't see it now, but I've seen it enough times to know. It's like someone mixed a bunch of silver glitter into regular come. I've made fun of it at my own peril a time or two. The first time Cas was not pleased and I paid dearly, the second time, he surprised me by asking if I was _doing that thing called joking_ humans seem to love so much? It didn't save my ass a spanking, but it wasn't anything terrible. Regardless, it still entertains me to fuck.

He pulls out, and I can feel the shiny crap leak out of me as he puts me down. "Pouting doesn't become you," he says even though I know it does. I'm a cute pouter. "Get dressed."

He doesn't say clean up and get dressed, so I simply put my new, soon-to-be-soiled-with-Cas's-shiny-angel-come boxers on. Fucker. The humans won't pick up on that scent, but other angels, and angel mates will. "Does this mean helping is out?" He said I could help in the infirmary if they had one, which I'm guessing by the size of this place, they do.

"You can still help, after you eat, and if you wear your collar."

That's a point of contention between us. Thankfully he doesn't tell me to wear it often. It's an interesting bit of angel protocol, enforced at the discretion of the angel. "Are you really that jealous, Cas?"

He's not ashamed of jealousy like a human might be. "Yes."

"How about a big ol' hickey, or a bite mark, or a—"

"—no."

It's a reasonably thin band of white gold, that locks in place on its own via some kind of angel magic, making it look like it's a seamless piece of metal. Not only is it uncomfortable, but I hate how I feel wearing it. I know I belong to Cas, I'm _happy_ to belong to Cas, but the fucking collar – it's hard to explain. To some angels, a mate isn't anything more than that. A life-sized doll to own, a hole to fuck. Cas owning me means more, we both know that, but I feel like the collar says to everyone I'm the other thing. He doesn't care what they think, so long as they know to stop thinking about me sleeping with them.

His eyes say he's not to be fucked with on this, but it's a thing I'm willing to risk his wrath on. "Cas, please."

"Wear it and go, or don't and stay. It makes no difference to me." Only it does. Me not wearing it when he commands me to, is the same as saying I'm not proud to belong to him. When he gets in these kinds of moods, he gets unreasonable.

I do the smart thing, and reach into my pack for it. I secure it around my neck, but if he expects me to be happy about it, that's a lot to ask. "May I go, now?"

He crooks a finger at me. I go to him. "Don't be mad at me," he says. He doesn't _prefer_ me to be angry with him, which isn't the same as not liking it.

"You're mad at me all the time."

"Only when you misbehave." He kisses my lips. "Eat. Enjoy helping. We'll sleep here a few hours after that, and then we're leaving." He says _we'll_ but he means me. Cas doesn't sleep.

"Yes, sir."

I head in search of food, and bump into Jo again. I'd rather her than try to make small talk with a new person, and at least she's cool. Humans don't tend to want to talk to me, and Angel mates can be uppity. Jo's shown she's not a douchebag, even though I kind of was one to her. I try to remember how to small talk. "You done working in the baths?" I ask in the friendliest tone I can manage, trying to remember what friendly sounds like. I think it works; she smiles.

Her eyes flick to my collar, but she doesn't say anything. If she's as perceptive as I sense she is, despite her hesitancy to give a fuck when maybe she should, she's aware I wasn't wearing it before. There's only one reason an angel tells you to wear your collar. Jo takes more care to keep her distance. "Yeah, nice bath?"

"Awesome. Thank you," I say.

"Where you headed now?"

"Food."

"Follow me, I'm headed there myself." She's a bit of a bossy thing.

This place has food almost as pentiful as Gabriel's Community which has become my gold standard. There's an entire buffet and lots to choose from, so I pile up my plate. And then I spy what I haven't seen in too long. Pie. Deep, golden crust, leaking with fruit-filling pie. I grab a second plate to fill up with a few pieces. Jo looks at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am.

I make sure to say a prayer before I eat. Cas isn't here, but I'm not getting caught, and ratted out by some do-good human or angel, or angel's mate. It's happened before. I have decided to forgo the praying when I thought I'd get away with it, and _when_ I was caught, oh boy, I thought Cas was going to kill me. I lived to tell the tale, but Cas made me regret it. Once Cas managed to find a broom handle for me to kneel on, I spent prayer time with it digging into my knees everyday for a fucking month. Made me carry it around with us too. _Fucker._

I'm not out of place. Jo bows her head, allowing me to recite the prayer. "Amen," she says after I do. We dig in.

When we're done, she shows me to the infirmary, apologizing she can't stay, she's got her angel to attend to. "Dean?" she says.

It's weird hearing her say my name, since I know I didn't give it away, but it's not unusual, my reputation precedes me.

"Dean Winchester?" she says real quietly. That makes my heart fucking stop. Few people know me by that name now. My eyes must look like stone, she regrets saying it out loud, but she forces herself to continue.

"Where did you fucking learn that name?" It's taking everything in me not to slam her against a wall. These are dangerous fucking times, and I'm starting to question my easy comradery with her. Has she been manipulating me?

"Sorry. I needed to make sure it was you. Look, I don't work in the baths, though I wasn't lying about hook-ups," she winks. "I chickened out earlier, but I made a promise. I have something for you." Looking around to see who's watching, she carefully slips me a folded piece of paper, risking looking like she's touching my hand. I take it quickly. With the mood Cas is in, she's likely to get the same treatment I did today, even if just to make an example.

Even without the words _'67 Chevy_ written on the front, I would recognize Sam's hand writing anywhere. This is from him. This is from Sammy. It's only a small note, but it's smeared with dirt and blood, and by the way it's misshapen in spots, dried liquid. Dried wet. _Sammy's tears._

In the time Sam's been gone, I, and then Cas and I have followed a lot of leads—some better than others. At first I believed every single one of them like I was seeing Sammy with my own eyes coming home to me any minute, the next day, the next week. As the weeks turned to years that feeling died. The clues started breaking my heart more than give me the hope they once did. They started to become myth then legend, the legend growing thin, making it hard to decipher if my time with Sammy had ever been real.

The information today is what Cas and I deem a more solid clue of his existence, but without physical proof it's still circumstantial. Not this. This in my hands is what I've been hoping for. _Praying_ for. Tears fill my eyes, and I wipe them away as I read.

_When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning. And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning. Look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn._

_When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing, and you look to the North, and a pale moon is rising. And it seems like all is dying, and would leave the world to mourn, in the distance, hear the laughter._

_I'm alive! I'm alive!_

_From, Sunny days in the grass, working on my car, pie…_

Sammy. It's not written there for obvious reasons, but that's what his sign off means. And he's alive. Sammy's telling me he's alive.

I read it over a few times, committing it to memory. Of course fucking Sam leaves me with an impossible riddle. He knows I fucking suck at riddles. I forgive him knowing how vital is it is to remain discrete. I remember Jo is still standing before me. "Jo, I don't know how to thank you for this. What you've risked for us… why?"

She bites her lip. "I'm hardly sure myself, except that… his eyes. I've never seen anything so dead, and lifeless, I wanted to give him some small measure of hope." Hope. Life to the dying. "I wasn't sure I was going to go through with it—I've had that letter since before the spring." That matches the information Cas found. A feeling blooms in my chest, one I haven't felt in some time. "But your eyes are the same, the same but different."

"Yes, I know. Green and dreamy, right?"

She blushes. "No. Well yes, but no. I don't know who he is, and I don't know who you are, but you're a matching set. One won't exist long without the other. You are the life in his eyes."

"All that from eyes?" I arch my brow at her.

"Josephine, my mate, she tells me I have a knack for reading people, one that extends beyond sight. A feeling."

Cas says the same about me. I wonder if it's part of being eligible to mate with an angel? I nod. "Wait, did you say your mate's name is Josephine? You're Jo, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. That makes us Jo-Jo, but _don't_ call her that."

Noted. "Jo, will you do one more thing for us?"

She nods.

"Burn this." I want to keep the letter more than I can express. It feels like I'm holding Sammy in my shaking hands. I want to keep it forever, and stare at it when I need something external to give me hope. But Cas will find it, and the consequences for Jo will be unpleasant. It's better for it to be destroyed.

She nods again taking the letter from me.

She's already done a lot, risked a lot, I have no right asking her anymore, but I can't help myself. "Can you tell me anything else about him? Wh-what did he look like?" _Other than his lifeless eyes._

Her eyes fill with quiet terror. "He was healthy for a human, but he didn't hold the glow of a mated creature, like you do."

It's my turn to blush. "That's good news, maybe he hasn't been mated." This bit of information is a bit conflicting to what Cas told me about him not looking good. But getting information second hand is like the fucking telephone game and is bound to be inaccurate—that person's interpretation at best. 

She shakes her head. "He wore Lucifer's collar… and his marks. They've definitely mated, Dean."

I try not to let my blood boil, but it does. I need to kill something. Now I know why Cas heard he didn't look good. Mating is supposed to make you shine that little bit extra. Healthy as a human, is okay. Not good, but better than I'd hoped. To an angel, it would be a devastating level of health, especially when you the potential to be another. "Marks?"

She doesn't want to tell me. "They make yours look like child's play. I honestly don't know how he was standing. Maybe that's where his extra life force goes? He is strong."

The last part makes my heart smile; Sammy is strong. _Keep fucking fighting, Sam._

I can't hear anymore about this. No wonder Cas doesn't tell me. I'm feeling sick to my stomach. "I should go. Thanks again, Jo. The Winchester's owe you."

I need to break shit, or fix shit—either is fine with me, but only the latter will be fine with Cas, so I head to the infirmary. I introduce myself to a man whose name turns out to be Jonah. I tell Jonah what my skillset is, and that I was sent here by he angel Castiel to help. I've learned that gets you into anything faster. This place is no different. "Um, we could use you in emergency bay? A few people needing stitches."

I nod and head where he points.

 _Before_ I had liked to fix cars, and _After_ I at least had Baby to work on now and then. It was my way of relaxing; helped me think, unwinding the chaos inside me. When I had to give up my car, I lasted about ninety days before I slowly went insane. When Cas grew tired of beating me into submission, he dragged me to a place he knew a physician who wouldn't refuse his request—not that a human would refuse Cas's request anyway.

He said he was leaving me there for six months, but that he'd be back every few weeks, and that I was to learn as much as I could from the physician, sorta like an intern. At first I was pissed. We had more important shit to do looking for Sammy—that's what I said anyway, but even I knew we were on a cold trail spell. The truth of _How dare Cas abandon me?_ came out, and I spent a lot of time begging him not to leave me there, and to please take me with him when he'd come back. By the end of the six months, I was sorry I had to go (though relieved to be back with Cas), and I understood the method in Cas's madness. I now had another way to fix things, to help, more appropriate to the times. Even cars on the road are hard to come by. People don't often use them anymore. There are more injured people than cars to fix.

And boy do we need people with medical skills. One would have hoped the angels would have taken on a healing role, but angels are funny. They'll help heal a human if that human has merit to them, or if they happen to be around, or if they're specifically called for _and_ they deem the situation worthy, but an angel's not going to spend their days in any kind of a hospital setting, _serving_ a bunch of humans day in and day out. The humans are left to deal with most of that kind of thing on their own.

I'm tired, starting to feel the exhaustion from the long day of walking, and my own body trying to heal itself, but I need to do this. I'll sleep better if I do. If only Sammy could see me now—he'd be so proud of me.

Jonah wasn't kidding, there are a lot of people who need stitched up. There was a demon raid at one of the Community's camps (just a standard supply run), a day's ride from here. These are the people who made it back, many didn't. Community's can be infiltrated by demons too, but it's harder, and less common. Demons prefer not to deal with angels, and a Community will always have at least one angel, since a Community needs at least one angel to support it, or it will be wiped out before it can really get going. The more angels the better, of course. Camps have no such protections, and are more likely to be attacked. Demons don't tend to attack Communities unless the Community has something they need.

I stitch up as many as I can, until Cas sends for me. He knows I'll stay all night, otherwise. I clean myself up best I can, washing the blood from my hands—no latex gloves around here—and check to make sure the amulet is secure around my neck.

Cas is there when I return to our room. He's pushed the cots together and found us pillows from somewhere. Both blankets are made-up on one bed, my bed. Cas doesn't get cold, oddly, he does get hot. "Is it bedtime?" I ask him removing my shirt, which wasn't saved blood-splatter; even with the robe they gave me to cover up with.

It's not unusual to have blood on me at some point, still Cas wrinkles his nose at me—he prefers my blood to strange human blood. He nods. "Throw that in the bin. We'll make sure you have a new shirt before we leave." Cas has removed his trench coat, and tie and the sleeves of his white button-up are rolled up to his elbow. Yeah, weird fucking outfit to wear during an apocalypse, but he wears it well, so I enjoy.

"Can I get some new underwear too, Cas?"

Cas lies back on the cot without blankets, appraising me suspiciously. "I seem to recall giving you a new pair earlier. Something wrong with them?"

That has me sputtering, trying to form words about how unfair that is since it's his fault the new ones are a mess in the first place, without actually saying it's his fault. Somewhere in the middle of that, his face cracks into a smile. "…are you…? did you just make a joke, Cas?"

He doesn't answer that, beckoning me with two of his fingers. "Off," he says referring to my soiled boxers.

I obey him, complaining about arrogant, not-funny, non-naked angels under my breath. When I'm naked and am close enough to the bed, he pulls me on top of him with my back to his chest, stealing one of the blankets from my cot and covering us with it. We barely fit, but it feels too good to be close to him to care. Cas uses his grace to blow out the candles in the room—we don't have to worry about grace use with all the grace flooding this place. "Um, Cas. Any chance you'd take the collar off?" It only comes off with Cas's grace.

"But I like it," he says.

"Please say that's another joke."

"I do like it," he repeats, fingering it in the dark, like he's memorizing the feel of it against my skin, but then there's a small humming sound, and a click as it pops open. He tosses it to where I had set my bag earlier, and then his hand slips down to grab hold of my cock, which like Pavlov's fucking dogs is at attention for him. There's no way I can be naked next to Cas (even if he's clothed) and not have a hard-on. Taking advantage of more angel magic, his hand is suddenly slick with lube, as he glides it up and down my cock. "Do you want to come, Dean?"

"Please, Cas. So bad." I spread my legs as much as I can in the small space we have, hoping he'll keep touching my dick forever.

His hand feels good on my cock, space and time narrow into just him, and his hand. It's quick like that, with him stroking my cock, since I've been wanting him all day. And just like that he reduces me to nothing. "Come, Dean," his gravely voice says into my ear, and I do before he changes his mind.

When we're cleaned up, and we've said prayers, he sends me to my own cot and makes sure I'm warm under both blankets. "Sleep, Dean. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

Cas leaves the room, and I do close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come easy, it never does. I'm warm in a bed, I wish I knew Sammy had the same. I wonder about him every night. Is he okay? Has he eaten? Does he still believe I'm coming? He's alive, but for how much longer? I recall Jo saying how lifeless his eyes looked.

Cas and I have been at this a long time. The trail gets hot, only to go cold then hot again. We carry out various other missions in between times and I've tossed and turned thinking about our next move, or how I'm going to accept that he's gone.

 _Have a little faith, Sammy. Just a little bit more faith._ I sound like Cas—just another way he's rubbing off on me.

Eventually, I must fall asleep, because next I know; Cas is shaking me awake. "Time to go." And we're off to chase another sunrise.

~**~

I bow before him naked, and making myself as prostrate as possible. I used to think my father was the worst perfectionist I'd ever encountered, but he pales in comparison to Lucifer who is the perfectionist of all the goddamned perfectionists. I must pass his scrutiny, because he doesn't comment, and if I were imperfect in any way, I would most definitely hear about it.

"Time to decide, Samuel. You can take your place by my side, or you can go back into the water. This time, I'm not pulling you back out. You can live there with the rest of them forever."

When he first said that to me, the choice was easy. _"Fuck you, Lucifer. I'd rather drown forever."_ His response was a shrug and a simple, "have it your way."

And it really does feel like drowning forever, constantly reaching for the top, but never quite making it enough it allows you to breathe. It's one of the worst and most terrifying sensations I've ever experienced. The first time he pulled me out the relief was more than I have words to express, like when you can't breathe for a long time, and then you can again. I spent days after that, luxuriating in the simple act of breathing, marveling at how easy it felt after so long without the privilege.

I never know how long he imprisons me in the water, until I'm out and can decipher it, but I know he'll always pull me out. And that's the worst part of the whole dance, knowing he will always pull me back out. Each time he does, I feel my resolve crumble a little more. It would be better to continue to drown, rather than feel what breathing feels like again. You don’t know how good it is until you can’t, and then can again. It doesn't help that he performs his own version of pampering. This doesn't mean I escape his violence, but I'll happily take the beatings over going back in that water again.

I know it's inevitable though. My time above water has a shelf-life, and as varied as the duration is, I'm able to sense when it approaches. To my dismay, I become more submissive, hoping he'll keep me for just one more day, and one day more. This is one of the many ways he's become aware of how much I hate it. I never say that I do and so far, I haven't begged. It's my body that gives me away with its subconscious submission, and the annoying trembles that are beyond my control, as I desperately fight to remain stoic, even as I'm dragged off to my own personal hell.

I can feel myself break a little more with each surface, knowing he's my only salvation at the moment, and that it's only a matter of time before I'll say yes.

The trembling starts, and I can already hear their cries. I'm not the only one Lucifer has locked up in the sea. There are other creatures there. I can sense them and hear them pleading for help. I wonder if they can hear me too? Their pained voices haunt my dreams knowing I am safe on land, while they remain, forever drowning in the sea.

"You know I'm not known for my patience, Sam."

I don't want to say yes, I don't, but for the first time, the no won't come. I do something I've never done. "Please. Please, Luci." There are times when Lucifer requires formalities. But there are other times he enjoys familiarity. Very few get away with calling him that, I'm one of them. "I've given you everything else." He's collared me even though we've not bonded, and I happily accept his marks. Lucifer doesn't care about rules, or protocol beyond that which he creates.

"And yet, not everything. Is that another no, Sam?"

I suppose that's true, and I'm withholding the most important piece from him. When an angel bonds with a human, it has to be with consent, even if—as in this case—the consent is beat out of them. When you give yourself to an angel, you give them everything. You are theirs in every sense, forever. But you have to say yes. You have to commit.

The tears come. I can't stop them. I don't want to say yes. I've been with Lucifer long enough to understand what I sign up for by saying yes. Maybe the water isn't so bad…

I've held on so long, hoping Dean would come. Of course I attempted many escapes myself, but Lucifer figured out quickly that when I have to watch innocent people die, I do almost anything he says. Bonding with him one of the few exceptions. It isn't just about me if I do. It's about the what's left of the human race.

Currently, humans hold an uneasy alliance with angels, which is putting it nicely. Angels rule the humans in an odd sort of way. The humans are happy for it, so long as they receive protection in return. Most humans revere angels anyway, and the ones who don't are merely indifferent. Angels were always thought of, as human salvation, and when the end of civilization came, _The Before_ , they proved it by giving humans some measure of safety and comfort.

Lucifer hates humans and wants them gone. How ironic that he needs me, a human to do that. Our bonding is foretold to make him powerful beyond measure.

It's why I've managed to say no to him for years. But it's been years, and while I don't doubt Dean's looking for me—provided he's still alive—I don't hold faith he'll come anymore. He won't be able to find me. No one can find this place.

Unless they have directions.

"Wait, wait. I'm thinking, _please._ " The anxiety rises up, and overwhelms me. Both thoughts are unbearable, drowning in the sea without end, making him more powerful than he's ever been. Who wants to be the person to give Lucifer abilities that will enable him to send the world into worse oblivion than it already is?

"Sorry, Sammy. Time's up."

He snaps his fingers and two of his faithful cronies grab either side of me. I'm already naked, and cold. I'm always cold. The trembling increases, and their voices get louder, somehow knowing I'm coming back, like they think I'm the one that can help them.

I never fight, but this time, I fight. The fight possesses me. I'm ashamed of what I do next. I call to him. "Please, Lucifer. Stop! Wait. Stop!"

"Not listening, Sam. Unless I hear that one little word I want to hear, it's back to the deep for you." He starts singing one of his favorite songs, indicating he'll just go about his day as usual, like he doesn't care one way or the other if I'm tossed in the ocean for however long. Only he does. Me denying him for so long makes him look weak.

I'm crying, and I'm _scared._ In my madness, I hear Dean's voice loud enough I scan the room for him, but he's not there. _"Sammy. Hey, Sammy? We're gonna be okay, promise. It's gonna be all sunny days in the grass, the working on my car, pie…"_ I can see him winking at me. It was the last thing he ever said to me. He was scared, I'd never seen my big brother that scared.

I can't look as they take me out to sea, so I close my eyes, but I feel my bare feet hit the sand; they're cut to shreds on the rocks and barnacles; I hear the crash of waves on the rocks. I try to prepare myself for the horrible cold, and the horrible drowning sensation, but nothing can. The cries are louder and louder until thinking is impossible. I can't breathe as my toe touches the water, and then, he's there. His arms are around me, all the while I can feel the presence of what lives beyond in the dark, cold drowning place.

"C'mon Sam. Just say yes. We don't have to do this. I don't even want to. Just fucking say you'll be mine." In my crazy chaos, I think I see tears, but that can't be.

Whether there is or not, is doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is not going back there. I nod. It's an almost imperceptible nod, but he sees it.

"You have to _say_ it Sam."

I open my eyes and everything is suddenly clear, as I stare at him. The wind blows my hair, and whips at the pale blue shawl-like thing someone's wrapped around me. Several creatures are present—humans, demons, angels. It's cold, and I just want to go inside. Be away from here. "Yes. _Yes._ " I reach for him and he lifts me to him, my size no issue for him.

"I'll make you happy, Sam."

I don't care about his promises. "Just… take me inside. I never want to come out here again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines used at the beginning and in the 'Sam Riddle' are from the Last Unicorn, by America
> 
> Here is some of the music I listened to when writing the Sam part at the end: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUS0l36SQbM&list=PLdOXY5H_vz_tT4n76F0IyOyp9fVtI269o


	2. After the Before; before the After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 20th, 2019  
> _____________________________________________
> 
> I haven't done an 18.5K chapter in, maybe ever. I like to keep the length between 5-6K for a few reasons, one of which, long chapters make editing more challenging. But this chapter had to come all at once. So I apologize in advance for any errors. Please forgive me for them. The other reason, I've noticed when posting longer chapters, bits get cut out sometimes. I've lost whole paragraphs. If you see a spot where you think a chunk is missing please let me know--I will come back and fix these. For other errors, I wish I had that kind of time, but I don't... so those will have to be left, sorry! Don't worry too much about those ;) 
> 
> This chapter likely has some trigger-y content. I'm not 100% sure how to label some of it, so I will say please proceed with caution. Take ownership and care with your mental space, lovelies. 
> 
> Updates: 
> 
> Now that I have gotten enough of this out, I will move to working on WW and CoH.

_Cas and I had an unconventional mating._

~THEN~

"This is without a doubt the stupidest idea you've had yet, Dean," Boydega says.

He's probably right, but it's all I got. If I'm going down, I'm going down with confidence. "You don't know Dean Winchester. I'm incredibly charming. I'll have the angel wrapped around my finger in no time."

The angel Gadreel has taken over this town, and from what Boyd and I gathered from our intel, the people seem happy, grateful even that the angel took over. They worship him. I suppose I get it—there aren't many places, at least not many safe ones. Most of everything was destroyed at the start of the war.

I pull up to the diner, and elbow Boyd. "See? It's our lucky day. There's even a diner in this place." If I'm going to continue to have to go without burgers during this whole apocalypse thing, I'm going to raise hell.

"What's your plan then, Dean? Or do you have one?" Boyd has no faith in me.

"I have a plan." He doesn't have to know that a lot of my plan revolves around my good looks. I don’t know a lot about angel stuff that was always Sammy’s job. He was an encyclopedia on angel lore. As it is, I have to wing it. "And if you'd stop talking long enough to listen, I'd tell you."

"Okay, what? I assume you have to manage an audience with Gadreel, but how you going to do that?"

"With Gadreel?" No. There's another reason I picked this town. "Are you payin' attention? This is Gadreel's town. Even I couldn't convince him to leave it. No. I need an angel who's willing to be on the road. I've got my eyes on the angel Castiel." That angel stays under all the radar, _all of it_. As luck would have it, I saw him walking, yeah _walking_ in broad daylight along the highway coming here. Walking like he gave no fucks, as to who saw him, like he’s got some business this way, and he’ll get it done. Woe betide you, should you get in his way.

Boyd spits out the soda he's drinking, and I glare at him for getting sticky sugary shit on Baby. He's laughing his ass off at me. "You're cleaning that up, fucker," I tell him.

He continues to laugh. "Let me, hahahaha, let me get this straight. You're going to ask the most impossible angel of all time to not only mate with you, but also embark on a mission to rescue your brother from Lucifer? A mission, I'll remind you, that's gone completely cold on us the past two months."

Yeah. I'll admit things haven't been going my way, and it's exactly why I need that angel. Rumor has it he’s the strongest of the angels, and can even give an archangel a run for its money. "Well I don't expect he'll do it for nothing. I'm willing to trade my body for this. It's not like he's hard on the eyes, and neither am I." Castiel is hot.

"Not your body Dean. You trade your soul, your fucking soul. Mating with an angel means giving up anything and everything. There's no guarantee the angel has to give you anything, but you'll still be required to give the angel everything. It's a shit deal if you ask me."

I know all of this. I slam my hand on the steering wheel. "You got a better idea?"

He huffs. "No."

"Then I'm going in." I pull the keys out, and start removing myself from Baby and away from him.

"No way. I'm coming with. I want front row seats to this."

"Fuck you, Boyd."

He laughs.

We enter the bar. It hasn’t been remodeled yet, there are no patreons, or people running the joint. Just a bunch of bottles in the well sitting there from _Before_ and dusty stools, empty glasses on tables abandoned. The angel Castiel sits alone with a glass of amber, a half full bottle of booze beside it (angels drink?) looking for all the world like he wants to smash his glass, and everything else. Fuck. I've seen friendlier cacti. Then, _whoa._ As I soon as I get anywhere close I feel it—the overwhelming sense of danger. It swirls around him like a hurricane. _Holy shit._

Boyd feels it too, and he's scared. "Dean. We should leave. Now."

Yeah that's the normal reaction, the one you probably should have around an angel like Castiel, but I can't stop looking at him, and I can't deny that I want him. I'm scared too, and I'm not the kind to scare easy, but it doesn't stop me. "Yeah, uh. You go ahead and leave if you want." I proceed to sit down beside him.

Castiel turns to look at me, utter disdain etched into every corner of his face, but I can't stop staring at his sapphire blues. They're beautiful in a deadly sort of way. "Hey so, can I—"

"—do _not_ converse with me human."

Okay that just pisses me off, because what a dick. "Look, pal. You should be so lucky as to have a conversation with me."

The sudden violence of his response takes me off guard, as he stands abruptly, his chair falling, turning to appraise me as though I'm something he'd like to crush. For several long seconds, I believe he's about to do just that until he pulls his eyes away from me, and stalks out of the bar. I grab his drink and finish the rest of it for him. "That went well."

"Holy shit, Winchester. I thought you were going to lose your fucking head. How you're still standing here, I don't know."

"Neither do I, man." Cas is a fucking force I have to recover from. I take a long breath and let it out slow.

He laughs at me. "All's well that ends well, eh? Can we go over to that diner you were talkin' 'bout now? I'd like to get a burger before we head out of town, while there are still burgers to get."

"Sure, man," I tell him.

The diner’s one of the few places in this town that’s up and running, so we head into the diner, and I can't stop thinking about him. I should be appalled at how much of a dick he was, and I am, but I'm more fascinated in a hesitant sort of way. Castiel is likely to take my head off. We get burgers, and they're damn good burgers, and I wonder how I can get the guy to fucking talk to me.

"Let's stay the night," I say on impulse as we're getting back into the Impala. "I saw a motel that still looks useable."

"You're kidding right? Dean, we have to keep moving."

We do have to keep moving, and yet I can't. "Just one night, man. One." I give Boydega puppy eyes.

"Fine. _One._ "

While Boyd sleeps, I head out. It's not the brightest thing to do alone. Towns are open, which means any old demon can waltz on in. And demons aren't the only deadly creatures around these days. Since the veil opened, I heard rumor there's even a dragon floating around somewhere. There was a time when I never would have believed that, but now? well I've seen far stranger shit than dragons. Plus, I would love to see a fucking dragon.

But I'm obsessed and I have to see if I can get the angel Castiel to at least speak to me.

It's not hard to find Castiel. He's in the same place I found him earlier, only this time he's conducting some sort of business with another angel— _that's got to be Gadreel._

I watch from my hiding place, until they look like they're finishing up. Gadreel leaves, Castiel stays to drink back more amber. Perfect.

I check to make sure the angel blade is clear in its sheath before I enter. This could get ugly. I'm not letting him leave this time without at least hearing what I have to say. No angel's going to be easy to convince—I don't know much about this, but I do know it's usually them convincing you. If he won't agree to mating with me after I've given it the good ol' college try, I'll move onto another angel.

I don't bother being sneaky, and walk up to him like earlier, only this time, I'm prepared for his rejection. "Look man, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier."

"I thought I told you not to speak to me, human?"

The simple fact I'm brazen enough to come back, when he told me not to speak to him, is how I buy the moment's hesitation, but that’s all I get, before he sets on destroying me. Cas is up, and reaches out to grip my neck in his hand, lifting me high in the air, and getting a good look at my face. He's fucking choking me, and I have to claw at this hand— _what the fuck's this made of, stone?_ —in a feeble attempt to get him to release me before I pass out.

It's just as I feel everything starting to go dark, I'm thrown across the room, and I land in glass. He threw me into _fucking_ bar well. I don't have time to assess if I'm broken beyond repair, I just have to _move_ because his dangerous eyes are set to Terminator, and he's coming at me. I do the movement with the least amount of effort, and roll, _yes onto more fucking glass_ and push myself up, glass crushing into my palms, blood leaking out of me.

I don't have to wonder at what he's doing. He could have killed me in an instant. I'm a mouse right now, and he's the cat, playing with his prey before he ends me. But I'm not even prey. I'm just the annoyance that wouldn't leave well enough alone, so he'll have some fun before takes my head off. I scramble to get up, but holy shit, this angel is fucking fast, and I'm not fast enough.

Smiling—not the nice kind of smiling, the fucking evil, smirk-y, you're-a-dumb-creature-that's-met-his-foolish-end kind of smiling—he grabs me up again, this time by my jacket, and tosses me into the wall, as easily as breathing. I land wrong, and _crack!_ my hand, my _fucking_ right hand is goddamned broken. If I want to use the angel blade, if I can even manage to grab it, I'm going to have to do it left-handed.

Sam was the lefty of the family. _Sammy._ I've really failed him this time. I'm about to die, and now there will be no one left to save him.

The angel makes it clear I have no hope against him. He uses my body as a wrecking ball, to ruin what's left of the decrepit bar. It's not that I roll over and let him, I’m fighting with everything I have. Whatever I try to do, he's a hundred times faster, whatever leverage I try to get on him, he's a hundred times stronger. Far as I can tell, he hasn't even used a lick of grace yet, and I'm already finding it hard to make out his form anymore. It's getting real fuzzy, my head's spinning, until I can't stay awake no more.

When my eyes open, to see the light of another day, I'm as surprised as anyone else. The angel's gone, and so is my angel blade. My hand and several ribs are broken. I'm bruised to fuck. My face looks like a balloon that got inflated wrong—puffy, bumpy and misshapen in spots. My left eye is especially puffy and I can't see out of it so good. It's fucking Rocky Balboa, his first time against Apollo Creed swollen. It looks like I had been bleeding in various places, but I've stopped and the blood's dried up, cracking open fresh when I try to move. I'm seriously beat the fuck up, no question there, but why the fuck am I alive?

I'm not complaining, but it is a fucking mystery.

The dinge-y bar seems more empty somehow. All the alcohol is smashed now (because my body was thrown into it), and fuck, I have a shitload of glass to pick out of various places of my body—that's going to be a fucking bitch. This place can now be added to the list of 'destroyed beyond repair'.

I make it back to Boyd. Barely.

"Fuck, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah. Just help me get this glass out."

He does, and it's a sonuvabitch. We clean me up too, and bandage my ribs and hand as best we can—definitely broken, but at least neither of my legs are. Breathing fucking sucks though.

"Okay, so we're heading out now?" Boyd asks, sounding so fucking hopeful.

"Fuck that. I'm getting my angel blade back."

"What is wrong with you? You're barely able to breath, you can't use that hand well, meaning we'll have to lay as low as we fucking can and hope we don't have to fight too many at once… or did you just want him to finish you off?"

He's serious about that last part, and I get where his thoughts are going. _Sammy._ He's thinking I've given up, and I'm ready to be done with everything. Maybe there's some truth to that. Last night, I really did think I was going to die, and a passing thought as I tried and failed to beat the shit out of him, was that at least the pain would end.

But I'm not giving up while there's fight in me still—'till my last fucking breath. So, no. He's right though, all signs point to us leaving, I've got no logical reason to stay. Yet I say it. "I want my angel blade back."

"Oh shit. Oh Dean you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"You're falling for the guy."

"Cool it Romeo. I'm pretty sure he beat me, and left me for dead. Besides, he doesn't even know my name." Fuck. That's the apocalypse version of, _he doesn't even know I exist, Karen!_ isn't it?

"If it's not true then let's pick up and leave, Dean."

"Absolutely."

"Good."

"Right after I get my angel blade back."

"Ugh."

"We're going for a little drive—unless you don't want to come?"

He sighs. "Look at you. Yeah, I'll come."

"Great."

If there's anything I'm ambidextrous at, it's driving. I slide into the driver's seat, and we head out of the abandoned motel, and I drive with my left hand perched on the steering wheel.

"What's the big plan now?" he asks.

"We drive around until we find the fucker, and then I run him over with my car. We'll take the blade off him, stab him with it, and head out of town."

"Okay. That's actually not a bad plan, and maybe our only chance against this guy. He's ridiculous powerful. I don't think I've ever seen an angel like him before."

He is the strongest angel we've encountered, which is saying something, angels are generally formidable.

We eventually find him again, walking. He's always walking. What is it with him and the walking? Can't he fly? But the real point is, nothing goes to plan. Not a damn thing.

He spots us, and with the way he's looking at me, he definitely regrets not killing me. I can't resist. It's difficult with my hand broken, but I manage to pull out one of Sammy's annoying cassettes, and pop it in the player. Real McCoy starts blaring. I turn it up more.

_Another night another dream, but always you, it's like a vision of love that seems to be true…_

Nothing like 90's pop to get someone's attention. I pull up to him and drive alongside him blasting my music, until he stops walking. Boyd is about to lose it. "Hey, _Cas_. Need a ride? I'll trade you, a ride for my angel blade, and for you to heal my fucking bones."

His eyes form into slits, but he's not moving to kill me yet, so that must mean something. "You should show me some respect," he says. It's the most he's ever said to me, and it chills me to the fucking bone.

I'm speechless for the longest three seconds of my life, and then Gadreel shows his face. "Dean, is it?"

I jump remembering where I am. "Uh, yeah." I turn the music down. “How do you know my name?”

"I make it my business to know who enters my town. I'm wondering if you and your companion could spare a few moments to meet with me? _Now._ Castiel, if you wouldn't mind joining us?"

It's a genuine question for Castiel. For me, he means get your fucking ass to my place.

"Shit, Dean. Now we're in trouble with angels. You were supposed to hit him with your car."

"Shut up." Fucking Boydega.

Castiel nods. "I will be there Gadreel."

"Good." The flap of his wings, and Gadreel is gone. See? He flies like a normal angel should.

Castiel is still beside my window, and some of the fear that should have gripped me moments ago appears. He leans against the window, his stare pierces me. "I want my stuff, Cas," I say with as much bravado as I can muster, and try not to let him see me shaking.

He stares at me a moment longer, says nothing, and then turns to walk toward Gadreel's place. Boydega starts to freak out. "Now you've done it, Dean. You've fucking done it. What are we going to do?"

I turn the car around and head toward Gadreel's intent on getting there before Cas who wants to walk everywhere. _What is he? On the Subway diet?_

We arrive, and it's the stupid things I notice. When Boydega and I out of the car, he shuts his side door, too long after me. _Sammy and I used to shut them at the same time._

No sign of Castiel yet—probably still walking from the other side of town. We enter what appears to be a nice house. Too nice not to have been fixed up by angel grace. We're greeted pleasantly, if a little curtly, by two humans. "Welcome, Dean," one of them says. "And Boydega."

"Perfect. Everyone knows our names Dean," Boyd says.

"Sorry." Seriously. I'm suddenly feeling crazy. What's possessed me? But I can’t help the little rush I get thinking, now Cas knows my name.

We're led upstairs to a grand room with a large white piano. Gadreel's seated there playing, he stops when we enter. "Ah, there you two are. I'm glad you've come to chat. Do you know if Castiel will be joining us?"

"Uh, he was headed this way," I tell him.

"Have a seat then. We'll wait for him before we begin."

"Sure. Are we in trouble? Is this about the smashed up bar?"

He refuses to answer me until Cas arrives, which he finally does, entering the room, softly closing the door behind him.

"What's this all about?" Castiel asks.

"It would appear there is a problem between you two—you're causing unrest in the town I'm trying to build. There have been complaints."

"Not we. Just him," I say and point to Cas. "He destroyed your tavern using my fucking body."

"He wouldn't leave me alone," Cas says not wanting anything to do with this conversation, probably only having it to keep a good connection with Gadreel.

"He broke my hand." I'm the most upset about that. "And took my angel blade." And that.

"I'm not returning the angel blade, but someone can fix his hand if they so choose."

"Someone? Shouldn't you do it? You broke it, asshole."

Cas advances on me, no one moves to stop him, he's got me by my neck against a wall, and it hurts a lot more than it should—I really am in rough shape. "My grace it reserved for the most important of tasks. Besides, I would never heal a human that was not my mate." He lets me drop to the ground, and while I'm trying to breathe again, which is nearly impossible with as many broken ribs as I have, I think about how lucky I am to have heard so many words out of Cas.

"He doesn't look so good, Castiel," Gadreel says.

"That isn't my problem," Cas says. Dick.

"Well no more beating on him, at least not in my town. I'm trying to attract humans. This does not bode well for me."

Castiel gives a firm nod.

"What about my angel blade?"

Gadreel shrugs. "Not my problem." Dick. "I think this concludes our business here. But I'm afraid if there are anymore incidences, I'm going to have ask you both to leave, at least until I’m more established. Castiel, you know I don't like to place restrictions on angels, but you'll understand I'm in a bit of a position at the moment?"

"I understand."

Gadreel clasps his hands together. "Good."

My guess is Castiel could tear Gadreel to smithereens if he wanted, and without other angels to help Gadreel, and a short supply of humans, he's not in a great position. Castiel must want to keep the peace as well.

"Well gentlemen, that concludes our business, please stay. Enjoy yourselves."

Even though I'm pissed about a lot of things, I feel a little bad. Watching the angel Gadreel who's sincerely trying to create peace does something to me inside. He's still a dick, but he's a dick with a decent purpose.

As we're leaving, Boydega's lecturing me about how that was a close call, _too close_ and we should get while the getting's good, but I'm barely hearing him. Castiel's about to set off again, _walking_ and I've just got to at least have him hear me. "Mate with me," I shout across the distance. He's already made it to the newly refurbished sidewalk outside of Gadreel’s with his long strides.

That catches his attention enough to turn and look at me. We stare at each other a long while, I manage to hold my ground, _and_ continue to breathe with busted ribs, and him staring at me like that. I'm banking on that he's agreed not to beat on me within city limits, keeping in mind there's nothing holding him to that promise other than his word. "I am not looking for a mate, and even if I were, you are too disobedient."

"I can be good. I can be obedient. Show me what you want. I'll do everything you say. _Please_."

Boydega's fed up with me. He gets in the car, probably certain Cas is just gonna tell me to go fuck myself, and then we'll head out.

But with Cas's gaze piercing me like it is, I can't move. "You are strong for a human," he says. "And I think you would be pleasant company in bed."

Holy fuck. I have to swallow hard. Bed. Sex. He's talking about fucking me. God, yeah. Okay.

"But you don't listen. You are belligerent. No."

I'm pleasing company in bed is what I get from all that—good looks for the win, _I fucking told you Boydega_ —and while I don't know much about angels, I know how much leverage potential can be had when someone _really_ wants to fuck you. That's definitely Cas right now. "Look man, I'm desperate. See, Lucifer took my brother Sam, and—"

"—Lucifer? Sam?" He tilts his head studying me a little differently than before. "Sam is your brother?"

"You know him?" My heart starts pounding in my ears. Holy fuck. Has he seen Sammy? Suddenly, my plan doesn't seem so stupid, and I regret nothing—broken hand and all. Just to hear someone else say Sam's name and _know_ he exists, and not because I told them, brings me life.

"I know of him. I have caught sight of him."

"You've _seen_ him? When? Where?" I can't hide the desperation in my voice. All thoughts of mates and anything else is abandoned. I want to hear more about Sammy. I want to feel like he's coming home to me.

Cas catches onto that. He scowls. "None of your business, but I find that I might now be interested in your proposition. You would be willing to mate with me?"

I can hardly believe it. It's too good to be fucking true, because _it is_ too good to be true. "S'what I said isn't it?"

Cas slaps me _hard_ across the face for that. "If I'm even going to consider this, you will speak respectfully to me."

I take a shaky breath. "Yes, sir," I say trying to show him that I can be.

"Try it again."

"What I meant was, I would be willing to mate with you in exchange for helping me find my brother."

He shakes his head. "No. That's not how it works. If I agree, I understand you'll have your own purposes, but I make you no promises. No negotiations. The only thing I'll tell you is that we have similar purpose, and that mating would help us both."

It's the worst 'deal' on the planet. It's not even a deal. But fuck, he's _seen_ Sammy. "Will you at least tell me when you saw, Sammy?"

"No."

God he's irritating. "Then what do I get out of this?"

"You will receive the standard benefits of angel-human mating. Those are yours to do what you wish, with."

Except that I don't know what those are, and I don't want to tell him I don't know what those are. Fuck. _Sammy would know._

But while I know shit about the mating, I can read between the lines. Cas must stand to benefit a lot from mating, and he must see a lot of potential in it if he's suddenly willing to do so.

Regardless of how shitty this will probably turn out for me, he's got intel on Sammy, and that's worth anything, and you’d better fucking believe I’ll hound him until he eventually tells me. Besides, the way this is looking, he hates the fuck out of me. So I mate with him, we have a little sex (which will be awesome and hot, I can tell), and Boydega and I get a travel companion that can seriously kick ass. It's already looking like a better deal than the one going on now. I suck in as much air as I can. "Right the benefits. Okay. I want do this. Yes. _Yes._ Let's do this."

"I have some business to finish today, which will take me about an hour. Meet me at the motel at that time. We will perform the mating ritual, and then we will head out of town."

"Okay."

Cas leaves, walking again, and I remember how to breathe.

When I get back into the car, Boydega is not happy. "Did you hear?"

"Yeah, I heard, and sorry man. I really thought it would never happen. You'd try, and it would fail, you hopefully wouldn't die, and then we'd move on. But if you're really going through with this, I'm sorry man, I'm out."

"You're leaving?" I always knew Boydega was a temporary thing. I found him wandering after Sam was taken, and he joined me for a bit, so I knew he’d leave eventually, but I've grown used to him. He's a good fighter, and not too shabby in the sack either.

He nods, and smiles. "I know you need to do this, no hard feelings, eh? Forgive me for not being able to stay on?"

I nod, but it's the end of an era. We've only spent a handful of months together, but we've been through some shit. Boydega gets out, and I open the trunk for him, so he can gather his stuff. I give him one of the demon knives. I'm likely to find another before I find Sammy, anyway. Huh. There's some real hope in that statement now. This Mating thing's bringing new life to the hunt.

Boydega straps his pack on. "Dean, take care of yourself. You're a good guy." We hug, I tell him to stay safe, and I feel a bit of wrench in my gut as he walks away. It's different saying goodbye to someone you don't know if you'll ever see again. 

I shed a quick tear then wipe it away. Right. _Moving on._ Now for this mating thing. Maybe I should have asked Boyd to tell me a bit about that before he left. I guess it doesn't really matter, it's not going to change things. Better to just dive in.

~**~

I head straight to the motel not wanting to be late. I pull out a beer and a snack from the cooler, then lie back on Baby's hood, where my exhausted body passes out.

I wake to see an unimpressed angel staring at me. He cuts straight to the point. "Are you well enough to survive this mating? Perhaps we should wait until you have healed."

And give him time to change his mind? Forget it. "I'll be fine. You could heal me you know."

"I would only heal my mate."

"I'm going to _be_ your mate. Couldn't you just, I dunno, give me an advance?"

He's irritated. I feel like I shouldn't irritate this guy. "No."

"I'll be fine," I say again. Though I'm wondering if I've got time to down another two or three beers. I don't ask.

"Okay, this car will do for a surface. Remove your pants, and bend over."

"What, here?"

Cas looks around confused. "What's wrong with here?"

“What about Gadreel? Won’t he be mad us doing stuff in broad daylight like this?”

“Gadreel will be pleased his new town can already report its first angel-human mating.”

Of course. Weird-ass angels. "And why are you so business-like? Shouldn't we, I dunno, kiss or something? Get in the mood?" I know very little about this mating business, but I know it requires consummation via sex. Most of this kind of shit does.

"Business-like? Kiss?" He's all the more confused.

"Yeah like, isn't there any romance to this?"

"Ro… mance? Dean, mating magic is one of the simplest forms of magic, even if it results in something that seems complex. We don't have to do much else."

I huff. "But isn't it nicer that way?"

"We don't have much time. I want to leave while we still have enough sunlight. Can we just get on with it?"

"Fine." I remind myself of why I'm doing what I'm doing, and swallow down the embarrassment I'm feeling at the thought of me bent over and him taking me on my car where anyone can see. I hop off the hood, undo my belt buckle and pull my pants and boxers down.

"Take them completely off—step out of them," Cas says.

I bristle at the order. Somehow that feels more naked, but I suppose it's really not. I kick my pants to the side, boxers and all, and rest my forearms on the hood saying a silent sorry for the scratches she might incur; I'll buff'em out later.

Cas doesn't do anything for awhile, and I want to tell him to take a picture, it'll last longer, because I'm feeling like a fucking dumbass standing here like this, but I don't say it worried that anything could make him change his mind. Instead I try to look more appealing. I've watched a ton of pornos, how was it they stuck their ass out again?

I arch my back some, _slowly_ so he doesn't notice I'm doing in on purpose, and spread my legs a little. The act of doing that brings more life to my already hard cock, which is maybe a little too responsive to the mention of sex, even like this, and especially with gravelly-voiced, bad-ass angels.

Suffice to say, that no matter my injuries, I'm sufficiently turned on and ready for this. But what's he doing back there? A fucking math puzzle?

My whole body tingles when he comes closer. "You are pleasing to look at human. I am pleased you responded well to my orders."

Getting praise like that from an angel like him might turn out to be better than the sex. Fuck it, I'm shutting my brain up. I'll wait here like this long as he wants. People, feast your eyes.

He traces a finger over my ass cheek, and brings his finger to circle my hole. "I did not think I would want you this much," he says like he's reading from a grocery list. Jeez. Only this guy could take the desire out of desire.

"Stand up."

I do, but now I'm fucking confused. He's changed his mind hasn't he? He seemed interested. He turns me to face him, and I see he's removed his jacket. All he's got on underneath, are a white, long-sleeved button-up, blue tie, and a pair of black slacks. Very odd travel clothes if you ask me. He grabs the wrist of my broken hand, and with this other, he slides it up my neck, and pulling me in for the kiss I wanted. Actually, it’s better than I wanted.

There's a brief moment where it's tender.

And then he attacks me like the predator he is. My lips were one of the only things that survived the beat down last night, but they're about to match my face with the way Cas is sucking and biting them. He's relentless, and fuck, I'm so goddamned hard. I press my naked dick into him as our tongues tangle together in a mad dance of passion, and violence.

In a quick movement, my ass is up on Baby's hood. I barely notice, all consumed with sucking Cas's face. Cas gets more aggressive, as his arousal builds and he's pressing into all my bruised spots. I moan, a mix of pleasure and pain. It hurts, but it turns me the fuck on.

I feel him reach down to undo his belt buckle. "Remove my belt Dean," he says. Jesus Christ, I almost blow my load there, but I pinch down, holding it in. I'd bet Baby I'm going to need that for something. These kinds of rituals always require bodily fluids of some sort.

I slide the belt out of the buckles, and he takes it from me, folding it in half. He yanks me off the hood to standing again, and I try not to show it, but I'm disappointed—I was really fucking enjoying the kissing.

He bends me over again, pushing my shirt up my back and out of the way. I'm a smart man, I can put two and two together enough to know what he’s going to use that belt for, but I am _not_ prepared for how hard he hits me, and I cry out. "Ow, fuck! Cas! I like a little spanking, but you're gonna take my skin off like that."

"That's what I'm trying to do. We need blood for the ritual, _your_ blood. This area is most convenient."

I turn my head to look back at him. "A head's up would have been nice."

He looks at me like I'm the crazy person. "Are you going to be quiet now?"

"Shutting up, sir." He hasn't said to call him sir, but I feel like that's a good call with this guy.

I brace for the next one, but it's not something you can prepare yourself for. I'm okay for five, but on the sixth, seventh, and eighth, I can't hold still anymore. "Don't you have any blood yet?"

"No, hold still. Part of the ritual is submission anyway—I thought you knew this?"

I don't answer that, hoping he'll just keep going. He does, but the next time he lays a stripe down, it's a reprimand. Ow! " _Dean?_ "

"I didn't know that part of it, okay?"

He thinks a moment. "What parts do you know?"

"The rest."

"Oh, so you're aware one of the requirements is to set a group of children on fire?"

"Wait, what the fuck?!"

I stand up and turn around to see him smirking with his arms crossed.

"Not funny, Cas."

"How would you know if I was making things up? You know nothing about this, do you?"

"Fine. No. I don't know anything—well not anything much anyway. Please don't change your mind. I need this. I can learn. I'll do anything you want," I remind him.

"That's all fine and dandy until it's something you don't want. My mate will do lots of things he doesn't want to do, Dean, and when he doesn't do as I’ve ask immediately, I will make him do the thing, and then punish him for disobedience. You can't even hold still for a simple strapping."

"Let me try again. _Please._ " I can fucking do this.

He stares at me for what seems like forever, and I think he's going to send me packing, but then he doesn't. "You're lucky I enjoy kissing you."

Dean charm strikes again.

This time I know it's coming, and how much it's going to fucking suck. And there can't be too many more before the skin breaks open, can there? The bright side, I figure out quickly, is that Cas's pace and intensity never vary. I can time my breath with his strokes, and it makes it _just_ this side of bearable. I can't help the grunts, or the labored breathing, I can't help the desire to move that runs down my legs when he strikes, but I _can_ stay the fuck there, and take it. I can do this for Sammy.

I don't know how many it takes, I stop counting after twenty, but he must get there, because he stops. I'm a bit floaty by this point. You have to go to another headspace to take a strapping like that. "You took that well, Dean." I preen at the pride I can hear in his voice.

"Did, did you get the blood, Cas?"

He swipes a hand over my ass, wetting his fingers with my blood, and shows it to me. "It's not a lot, but it will be enough."

I see now what he meant about needing stamina for this. I can feel my body getting tired. It's already bruised and sore. I fight to stay awake for the rest of the ritual. I hear Cas's zipper open, then I feel his fingers at my entrance. They're wet with saliva, and blood, as he pushes them inside. I find it odd how much time he takes, ensuring how open I am, when so far, he hasn't hesitated to be less than gentle. I find all of it thrilling – the gentle among the rough, the care throughout the violence.

When he's decided I'm open enough, my cock is throbbing, and fuck I hope there's an orgasm at the end of this. I feel Cas position his cock, and before he even enters an energy washes over me, and a knowing – Cas is still a stranger to me, but I know I belong with him.

He pushes in slow, but I can feel the tension of him holding back in his hips. He begins with a careful rhythm, and I keen back looking for more, wanting more of his cock. I forget everything as he pounds into me – the people probably walking by, the pain, the war, the death, even Sammy. It's just me and Cas. I feel a building sensation, as he glides in and out.

Cas becomes more animalistic in his thrusts, his fingers dig hard into my hips, where I'll have yet more bruises, and I'm sure Cas slamming into me can be heard all the way to Gadreel's. I'm happy for all of it. It feels so fucking good. "Mmmmm, Cas. Oh fuck, _Cas_."

I'm only a little thrown off when he begins to say words in a language I can't understand. I assume it's the ritual, and simply enjoy the sound of Cas's gravelly-voice, turning me on as he fucks me stupid. "C-Casssss, gonna, gonna come. C'n I? S'it safe?" I ask him when he's stopped saying stuff. I don't want to fuck up the ritual, maybe there's a timing to it?

"Not yet."

Fuck. I hold back, but it's not easy.

Suddenly, I'm not worried about coming so much, as the energy builds to yet another level, and we're bathed in blue light that starts to sear my skin. "Cas?"

"Strong now, Dean. I need you to be strong."

What's that supposed to mean? "Cas?" The pain gets stronger, and so does the blue light. It feels like it's being sucked into my skin, like my skin is soaking up acid. I cry out at the pain, it’s fucking intense, but we’ve come this far, so I keep in time with Cas’s cock best I can against the searing pain.

"That's it Dean, keep going," Cas encourages, still fucking into me.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, the burning-like-acid-in-every-cell-feeling starts to dissipate, but relief is fleeting. Now that I seem to have filled up with the blue light, it wants to get out in a big way, and I feel like I'm going to burst apart. "Cas, h-help. Help. I think I'm about to die."

"Don't you dare. You're not dying on me. Fight it Dean."

I want to ask how, but words won't come, just the increasing knowing that the blue light I've absorbed is going to blow me apart any second. "Ahhhhh!" I have to cry out to control the power inside me. "Cas!"

"Don't let it over power you. Think of your brother."

There is no situation in which I want to think about my brother when I'm having sex. Especially not when I'm letting a psychopathic angel fuck me, using my own blood, while I break apart. Yeah, I get what he means by that, but still. Not happening. It does give me an idea though. I need a place to channel the energy, and the only place I can come up with that has enough power is my heart.

I imagine like I'm gathering it up, and I send it there—to my heart—and hope to Christ I'm right. _Sammy always said I had good instincts._

The energy barrels toward my heart, and when it hits, it splatters into a zillion tiny particles through me, through my veins, and I can feel it becoming one with each of my cells. There's another burning sensation that reminds me how soldering must feel like, as my cells fuse with whatever angel magic is coursing through me, but I no longer feel like I'm going to break apart.

Like Cas can sense that part's over (and I bet good money he can), his orgasm ripples through me, and yet another blast of the searing pain heats my body again, feeling like acid, but I know what to do with it this time, and start channeling it to my heart before my body feels like it will explode again. As my heart receives the large, angel energy again, I hear a smolder-y fucking voice in my ear. "Come Dean. Come hard." My orgasm ripples through me in time with the second burst of energy running through my heart, so it's all running through my heart together.

I don't know how my body manages at this point. Not only am I wrung out, I couldn't exactly tell if I was still turned on enough. Cas's cock always felt good, but searing pain's usually enough to turn a guy off an orgasm. Not today, folks. Not today.

When it's all over, and I've figured out I haven't blown apart, I collapse over the hood of my car, and breathe. I barely feel Cas slip out of me, but I do feel when he lifts me like I'm a rag doll. He lays me down on a picnic table that's seen better days, and helps me put my pants back on. I wince when he pulls them up and over my ass. He's actually being careful and gentle though, which surprises me. All I can do is lay there and breathe, marveling at the fact I’m still alive.

I watch him the whole time though. I can hardly believe how much care he's taking. " _Dean,_ " he says managing to make my name sound like a scolding. I decide that's Cas for _are you okay?_

"I'm here, Cas," I assure him, and smile up at him like he's the moon. I reach my arm out to him. "Cas? Can you come here?"

He moves closer and the feeling I was feeling lessens some turning into relief when he touches me. "What is that Cas?"

"It's the spell. You've got some of me in you now. Those bits of me will always seek me out and the other way around—my cells will always seek you out trying to find the others, which belong with them. You belong with me now, Dean."

"That's kind of romantic, Cas."

He rolls his eyes. "It will fade to a lesser degree in a few hours, but it will always be there in some way. How it takes shape will be revealed to us over time."

"You know, Cas? This is the most words you've ever said to me." I feel a bit drunk. I don't think I'm speaking right. Can angel-sex-magic make you drunk?

"You will find I'm not overly loquacious, but you're my mate now. Every angel is different, but for me, I find it only pertinent to speak familiarly with my mate."

"Have you had a mate before, Cas?" Yeah okay, that's probably the angel equivalent to, _how many people have you slept with?_ but I just finished having my skin almost melted off with acid-like angel grace. I’m feeling entitled.

"I have had a few, I am very old Dean, but I've not taken a mate in a long time—in at least a thousand years."

My eyes bug out. "A thousand years?"

He nods.

Huh. I know in the end I convinced him based on a mutually beneficial goal, but that makes me feel kinda special. "Cas? I don't think I can walk just yet. M'sorry."

He nods. "I have devised that. We will delay our journey the night, so you can rest."

"Can't you zap me with your angel power-y stuff? I'm your mate now, you said you can do that with your mate." According to his weird-ass rules.

He shakes his head. "In this case, I would, I'm anxious to leave after such a large use of grace, but you are still thrumming with magic. It would be a very bad idea."

"What do you mean, in this case?"

I think I'm starting to exasperate him. "Angel magic, _grace,_ is traceable. I don't like to be traced. I use my grace sparingly—you know a lot less about this than you even let on, don't you?"

I nod. "No takesies backsies, Cas. We're bonded, mated… whatever."

He looks annoyed. "It's good to know you've no qualms manipulating someone into a situation in which they are not familiar with all parameters. Remember that the first time you discover something about this you don't like."

"I like it preeeeetty well so far, Cas. This feels nice," I slur.

"Okay, time for you to sleep." He lifts me again, and I _oaf_ as my cracked ribs press into his shoulder. He brings me into the motel and gets me settled on one of the beds. He looks around displeased with the state of the place, then in a snap, the room transforms, and it's clean as it might have been when humans kept the place during the _Before_. I raise an eyebrow at him. "I've just used a large blast of grace, which means we can already be traced. Using more won't make any difference for a time."

He can see my face twist up with more questions, I can see his twist with the annoyance of potentially being asked more questions. I decide on no more questions. "Thanks, Cas. This is nice." Except one. "Cas? Will you lay with me? Please?"

I don’t know what possess me to request such a thing from him, it’s not like he’s been accommodating, or forthcoming with affection, yet I ask like it’s the most natural thing.

He appears to be deciding whether that’s a good idea or not. “Okay. For a time, but then I’m going to take care of some business.”

The idea of him not being there is unpleasant. Almost an anxious feeling, but also like sandpaper rubbed over skin. But when he slides into the bed with me, it’s the most relief I’ve ever experienced. Like resting your feet after a long day at work, and safety mixed together.

I curl into him, clambering onto his body, as he lays casually on his side. “So what happens to you? What do you get from mating?”

“No more questions for now. Go to sleep Dean.”

I don’t intend on following that order. I don’t want to sleep yet, even tired as I am.

Cas can tell, and he isn’t having it. “Sleep.”

Sigh. He’s infuriating, but he’s right, I need sleep, so I close my eyes.

~**~

It’s not nearly enough sleep later, he’s waking me. “How long was I out?”

“You slept all day, and through the night,” he says.

I sit up, hardly believing he’d delay for as long as that just for me. Does he actually give a shit? I don’t think too long on that, sitting up to assess the damage. Hand still broken, ribs too. Ass feels like it’s had a hiding, body feels slightly seared from Angel-Grace-Acid, and like tenderized meat at the same time. I’ll live though.

Man am I ever looking forward to getting behind Baby’s wheel. I wonder if Cas will let me bring a pillow?

I'm surprised to see my face is looking pretty decent. Cas is there, leaning against the doorframe. "Do you feel different?"

"I'm pretty busted up, so it's hard to tell, Cas, but I think so. My face is healing faster than expected, and yeah I feel tired, but not as tired as I should be. It's like, I took an Advil, without taking the Advil, and some serious caffeine."

Cas nods. "About right. You won't heal as fast as I do, but you'll heal faster than a human."

I quirk a brow at him. "Cas, am I no longer human?"

He shrugs not really caring what I am, just that I'm not a cool as he is. "Humans have a different opinion than angels," is all I get.

"What about you?" I don’t forget he didn't answer my question yesterday.

Cas smiles. "I am quite pleased with this mating," Cas says. It may be odd, but I kinda feel awesome knowing I did good in some way. "This is the strongest I've ever been."

"So your super powers got extra super?"

"Something like that."

"Your friend never came back," he tells me. "I was watching for him."

"He left," I say, but I'm suspicious. No way Cas would be concerned about my friend coming back. "Why were you watching for him?"

"Well he couldn't come with us," is all the response I get.

Something doesn’t sit right about that.

"In any case, we must be off. We have a lot of missed time to make up for. Gather your things, and we'll be off when I get back."

"Don't need to gather anything. Baby's all ready to go."

"We’re not taking the car. We're walking."

That's all he says. No negotiation. Just, this is what we’re fucking doing so deal.

"Cas, that's my dad's car," I say. "It's all I've got left of my dad, and Sammy."

"I'm not arguing about this. Obey me. I'll be back, and when I am, you'd better be ready to go."

Cas turns and his jacket flares behind him as he leaves the room. I’m pissed. I start throwing shit with my good hand, and trashing the room Cas 'fixed' yesterday with his grace. This is fucking bullshit. You know what? Fuck him. That's my car, my goddamned car, and if he thinks I'll leave it, he's crazy. I decide on a silent protest behind the wheel of my car. If he wants me to leave it, he'll have to carry me. Or better yet, maybe I'm calling this thing off now. He got what he wanted, I got… powers of some sort, which isn't quite what I'd envisioned, but will be a big fucking help in my quest for Sammy.

As I sit behind the wheel, waiting for him, I contemplate leaving. I could probably leave, and I'll be he wouldn't come after me. But then I have the thought that I convinced him to mate with me, and that had been hard, but worth it, maybe I can convince him on this point too? I wait for him.

I wait with all the bravado I'm known for. Forcing the _I don't give a shit_ attitude to penetrate through me even though I’m not really feeling it, and hope it’s enough to convince Cas. Inside, I'm nervous as fuck. I have no idea what he'll do. Cas hasn't reacted how I thought he would at any point in this, and his reactions are… scary.

He walks up to the car, holding a bag of something, and sees I'm still in the car, and he gathers from my posture I have no intention of leaving it, I am not prepared for the wave of displeasure I get. It's a look, and it's a feeling I can almost touch with my hand. It's visceral, and it expands through my nervous system like a million spiders crawling. I attempt to continue my visage of _don’t give a shit._

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice is a calm fire about to set everything ablaze.

"What's is look like I'm doing? I'm ready to go Cas, get in."

"Give me your hand."

A heat builds in my chest telling me I fucked with the wrong person, and I can't stop the nervous beating of my heart.

"W-Why?" I know there's no chance I don't look like I don't care anymore, but I still try.

"So help me Dean, if I have to waste a grace use making you do as I ask, you will regret it. Your hand. _Now._ "

Everything about him is dangerous, and fuck, I'm scared. Doesn't stop me trying. I know which hand he means, but I move to give him my left one, the _good_ one. " _Not_ that one."

I have to control my breathing as I reach my right hand across to him. It's still so swollen it looks like a fucking club, _some accelerated healing powers._ The bandage is keeping the black and blue covered, but it's not a good bandage. It needs a cast, or one of those air-cast fucking things, but good luck finding any of that. It throbs though, and the anticipation of what Cas is going to do with it is terrifying.

He takes hold of it, and he's gentle with it, but the threat is clear. "We're going to have a quick conversation, and then be on our way. What did I say?"

Fuck, which part? Is this an I get it wrong and he does something gruesome to my hand thing? It fucking shakes in his hand. I give it my best shot. "Um, you said, pack my stuff up, and that we were leaving."

"Very good."

Those two words bring me a lot of fucking relief, but he's not let go my hand yet, so I'm still a live wire of nerves.

"I also said it wasn't a discussion, and to obey me, didn't I?"

"Y-you did."

"I don't ask things twice. I say it, you do it."

He passes me my hand back, unharmed. "Let's go."

He turns to leave again, and because his little terrify Dean tactic ended anticlimactically, I get a burst of bravado. "You know what Cas, this isn't working. Go yourself. Mating off."

I'm about to turn her over, and drive off, when suddenly the door is open, and I'm being dragged out of the car. I'm like a whip of licorice to Cas, he can drag and bend me any which way with ease, and yes I'm fighting, but it doesn't matter; I'm going to be dragged out of the car, I'm being dragged out of the car, I will be in the spot Cas wants me, _how_ Cas wants me. I'm a big guy, and not used to feeling so helpless. There's an odd thrill with it, which diminishes the terror by zero.

Cas shoves me at the trunk of the car, and I trip into it, but quickly turn to face him. Normally I'd be braced to fight, but all I'm considering is submission at this point. "This is how it's going to go. I'm going to start walking, you're going to grab whatever it is you need, _quickly_ and join me."

"What if I don't?"

"You will. Sure, you might sit there too long contemplating leaving on your own before you decide to join me, but you _will_ surely join me. And you are strong, you may even be able to fight the sensation of being compelled for some time—weeks, months even—until you come in search of me, but come in search of me you will, and I will not be pleased."

Sensation of being compelled? He's talking about that feeling isn't he? The one where I don't _like_ being away from him isn't he? Is he right? Will I be compelled to search him out? Or is he bullshitting to get me to listen?

"There is a signpost at the edge of town, if I make it to that signpost and you still haven't come, or even if you are coming, and I can see you walking toward it, but you don't make it there before I do this is what's going to happen. We'll be walking from place to place, we'll stop in at various abandoned homes, all of which have garages, and toolboxes. _You_ will be in search of a hammer. One with a nasty, metal head."

My heart picks up the pace again. My skin breaks out in terrible goosebumps.

"Maybe at one place we'll find one, or worse we won't, and the anticipation of it will hang over your head while we walk imagining how much it’s going to hurt. Then one day we'll come across one, and I'm sure we can find one before that hand heals. You'll present your hand for me, _that_ hand," he says pointing to my broken one with his eyes, "while I use the hammer to smash each finger, one by one. And you will hold perfectly still, or I will start in on the other one. I can heal you, until you do it right."

"You are a fucking psychopath."

He shrugs. "As it is, I will be punishing you for this histrionic show of disobedience whether you make it to the signpost or not. I don't have time for being tested. I hope this clears that up." He throws the bag he was carrying on the ground. "That's food for the road. Add that to your necessary items."

Cas turns to leave, not walking slow, but not walking fast either. Just a pace that seems too fast in light of what he just said. I know which signpost he's talking about. How the hell am I going to have time to grab everything, and get there? The answer is I'm not. If I put a pack together now, I'll be able to bring _some_ things and maybe _just_ make it.

That is, unless I don't go. He could be lying, trying to scare me into chasing after him, but even as I'm thinking it, I know can't be lying about it—I can feel what he's talking about already. It's nothing like it was the other night, it's not _painful_ , but it's a sinking, awful feeling watching him walk away, and I don't _like_ it enough that yeah, … yeah okay that's going to wear on me at some point, driving me slowly mad enough to risk a smashed hand just to be with him again.

Panicked, and feeling like I don't have enough time, I pop the trunk, grab my pack, and start stuffing things in. I'd be able to fit more if I had the time to pack shit nicely – _but I don't_ – and I'm having trouble deciding what to bring. I want it all. Some of this stuff is invaluable, collected over time and hard won, but it just won't all fit. I definitely take the demon knife I have left, and my favorite handgun. I grab what little food I have left, and add it to what Cas got for me, unsure if Cas will see fit to feed me beyond that. He did threaten to smash my hand with a hammer; I wouldn't put starving past him.

In that moment, it dawns on me how very much in control of my life Cas is.

I pack and repack my pack three times deciding against and for things, knowing I'm wasting precious time, no idea how close Cas is to the fucking signpost.

It's been too long already when I think I've got the essentials. I don't have time for it, and filled with dread as I am, it's not going to be a proper goodbye anyway. I take a quick last look at her, one of the best fucking things Dad gave me, the place Sammy and I called home for since I can remember, wipe the tear away from my eye, and _run._

I took too long. I fucking took too long, didn't I? I've been running and I can't see Cas. I'm not even close to the damn signpost. Why didn't I just listen? Running's not easy with busted ribs, but I have to think beyond the pain if I have any hope of making it in time.

My lungs burn, and I want to take a break so bad, but I push. I can take a break as soon as I make it to that signpost. Finally, sweet Jesus, I see both – Cas and the signpost, and fuck, he's so close to it. I don't think I'm going to make it.

I keep running, my pack sloshing around behind me, running so fast I want to puke, and calling for him, hoping he'll take pity on me and wait up. "Cas. Cas! Wait up, man, _please_!" What a fucking optimistic idea that was. Cas doesn't stop, doesn't even turn to look at me. Just keeps walking at his steady pace, getting ever closer to the post.

I want to give up, it crosses my mind to do so, just stop, but all I can think about is how many damn nerves the hands have, and that there's no way I'll keep still for that, and the sadistic fuck will go on and on forever.

I stop thinking about _not_ making it, and concentrate on fucking making it. I don't know where the burst of speed comes from, but I get it, and I _go_.

Since he's not trying to beat me there (because if he was, I wouldn't have a chance) the burst of speed is just enough. With my lungs feeling like they'll collapse, my heart thudding, and my muscles about to tear, I just make it. _Just._

But to do it, I have to take a dive, and land at his feet, sliding into the signpost, like I'm sliding into home base. I'm so relieved I could almost kiss it. I look up at Cas with a goofy smile despite it all. He's above me, arms crossed, still really fucking displeased with me. "I made it."

"Am I supposed to congratulate you? If you had obeyed me in the first place, we wouldn't have had to go through all that. Stand up."

My eyes go wide as he starts removing his belt. Oh. _Oh right._ In the race to get here, before him, I forgot that he said he was going to punish me. I stand, and I only think about protesting. I think I've tested Cas to his limit for the day, maybe for the month.

"Put your pack down, drop your pants, boxers, and grip the sides of the post and bend over."

A few things have me hesitating. Yeah, we did all that mating stuff yesterday in view of anyone who walked by, but I was involved, I had purpose, today I don't want people to see me getting a hiding. And speaking of hidings, my backside still has yesterday's massacre on it.

Cas has no patience left. "Now, Dean. You've wasted enough of our time."

I comply immediately after that, bending over like he asked, baring all my parts for him. I've some idea of how Cas spanks by this point, so I brace for it, but nothing prepares me. I don’t even make it one, and I'm jumping out of the way. Cas is going to murder me, isn't he? I already know he likes me to be still, and submit to punishment, or whatever he wants to do to me, gracefully. I beat him to the scolding. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can do better than that. I’ll be still." Oh god, he’s going to make me find that fucking hammer isn’t he?

I do, as in I stay still, but I can't help crying out. I'm already sore from yesterday, this is pushing me beyond.

It seems to go on a long time, with Cas lecturing me during. "I expect to be obeyed _immediately_ Dean. Not when you feel like it, not after I've had to threaten you with severe consequences, not after you complain. I don't," smack, "have patience," smack, "for backtalk." Smack!

I nod, and by this point there are tears in my eyes. It hurts too much not to have tears, and even if it didn't, a whole bunch of feelings are spilling out of me. I want my car back, I want Sammy, I want to not be such a fucking disappointment to Cas.

Even when he stops, I don't move in case I'm not supposed to. My ass is on fire, but I remain as I am, bent over, gripping the signpost with my good hand, trying not to put too much weight on the broken one.

"All right. Pull up your pants, grab your pack."

My body feels stiff as I stand up, but I do obey Cas immediately not wanting a repeat of a single thing that's happened the past hour. I wipe my eyes with the back of my forearm, sniffling, quickening my step enough, so I can fall in beside him. Maybe it's more of the magic, maybe it's just irrationality, but seeing him walk away again, even though I know I'm following, tugs at me and makes me want to be closer to him.

I don't know where we're walking, but it's quiet, Cas wanting nothing to do with a disobedient cur like me. I have a thousand questions, but I leave him be. I can still feel the steam coming off him. So we walk. Walk and walk and fucking walk. Of course I decide to mate with the Jack Reacher of angels.

I know Cas doesn't sleep, he could just keep going if he wanted, but I'm beat – literally and figuratively. I don't know how much longer I can keep going, and there's no end in sight. We didn't even _stop_ to eat, I ate what Cas got for me as we continued to walk. I _think_ Cas has cooled off though, so I chance talking. "Um, Cas?"

He turns his fire blue sapphire eyes on me, and I freeze for a second, hoping to fuck I haven't pissed him off again. "I'm human, Cas. I'm a about to collapse dude."

He nods. "This is why I wanted to get a good start. The first stop point I'd planned out has some cabins and a place for you to sleep. Do you still have food and water left?"

I nod.

"Have something to eat and drink. We should get there by nightfall if we keep going at this pace."

Nightfall is at least another two hours off. And I feel what a toddler must feel when they're tired, and need a fucking nap. I'm stuck between not wanting to piss him off, and having a tantrum. I choose the smart option, and shut my trap, following behind him. I start to fall behind him though, not on purpose, I'm really pushing to keep his grueling pace, but I can't.

"C'mon Dean, just a little further," he says reminding me of one of those fitness trainer people you hire to kick your ass. That's what today has been. Aside from the literal ass-kicking, all the walking at Cas's crazy pace for hours on end's finished me off.

When I finally see those cabins, I could cry. I'm about ready to collapse on a rock.

The cabins, like a lot of things now, have seen better days, but they're not bad. Probably more comfortable than sleeping in the Impala, even though I'd still take my car over this any day. The bed is king-sized, and the sheets are decently clean. I put my pack down inside.

I lay back on the bed luxuriating in the comfort, aware Cas is watching me. "You need to eat some more. I'm going to get you an animal. I'll build a fire."

That's enough to rouse me and get me to sit up straight. "You're leaving?" I hear myself as soon as I say it. I sound … I don't know how I sound, but I know I don't like it. It's not like I'm scared. Sammy and I used to go off on errands without the other all the time and it was no big deal, why don't I like it when Cas goes?

"That a problem?" Cas is interested.

"Ye—no. No, Cas. It's fine." I slam myself back down on the bed. "I'll be fine. Just, hurry back?"

"I won't be long. Will you try to sleep a bit?"

I stare at him, hardly able to believe it's really him. "Did you just _ask_ me to do something, rather than command it?"

He looks like he wants to skewer me. "I _asked_ you to try, because I know it will be difficult for you to sleep when I'm gone. I'm not going to _demand_ you do something I know impossible. The magic must not have finished settling yet. You seem particularly… clingy."

"Clingy? I am _not_ clingy!"

Angels aren't supposed to get tired, but Cas looks exhausted with me. "Then I guess you don't need me. Perhaps I'll stay out all night."

I bite my lip, because I really don't want to ask him not to do that after his _clingy_ comment, but I do want to ask him not to do that. "I'm good Cas, knock yourself out."

I close my eyes, so I don't have to watch him walk away, and I wait to hear the door shut, signalling he's gone, before I open them again. I kick off my boots to make myself more comfortable, and slip out of my jeans, which I think I'm going to trade in for some kind of travel pants if we're going to be doing this much bushwhacking.

I congratulate myself on bringing first aid supplies in my mad panic pack, and take them out, and tend to all my injuries.

When I'm re-bandaged, and cleaned up some, I go on a short tour, unable to resist seeing if the taps work. Of course they don't—man do I miss running water. I head back to the bedroom, thinking I should at least try to do what Cas has asked. I don't think he'll be pleased if I don't bother at all. I'm getting that the guy has no mercy, and won't hesitate to punish me for any and all disobedience. He seems big on that.

I lay down, and it feels like heaven. But Cas is right; I can't sleep. I can lay here with my eyes closed wishing for it, but it won't come. Regardless, I do lay resting. The rest has to be good for my tired bones.

Cas is gone a long time. Asshole, he really is going to stay out all night isn't he?

Finally, he does come back. I rush out of the bedroom to meet him, and see he's full of blood. _Black blood._ "Sorry I was delayed." He slams the carcases of a couple birds on the table.

"Demons?"

"An army of Anansi. I don't know what they're doing here, they're typically found in West Africa."

I shiver. I hate fucking spiders.

Cas notices, and I think he's amused by the way he smirks. "Don't worry, I protected you."

"I could have protected myself."

"Not from these you couldn't have. Did you get some rest?" he asks turning serious, and boy am I glad I tried.

"I did, but you were right," I admit. "Couldn't fall asleep." I feel kinda dumb about that. Can't sleep because I'm not tucked in beside my angel. Jesus fuck.

"I will make sure you get some sleep."

"Is this what it's going to be like from now on?"

He knows what I'm talking about, even though I don't say it. It's too fucking embarrassing to say out loud. "It will dim over time, but I suspect being away from me is something you will continue not to… _prefer._ "

I scowl at that, and stare at the floor. You don't think something like that's going to be annoying, but it is. I don't like needing someone quite like that. I need Sammy, but it's a different kind of needing. I can at least be out of his vicinity, and take a fucking power nap.

Cas does something else I don't expect. "I feel the same way."

My head snaps up. "You do?" He sure doesn't act like it.

He nods.

"I thought the pattern was the angel gets the best end of the deal, and the human gets all the shit things?"

"That's really a matter of point of view."

"Is it, Cas?" I say getting a bit angry. I'm tired and cranky and I can't even fucking sleep. "You don't need to sleep, and you don't have some lunatic angel making you walk at a pace no human was meant for, for hours, _within hours_ of a freaking mating."

"I almost lost my arm to a Trickster Spider," is what he says to all of that, and I don't know why, but it's funny.

Maybe I'm delirious from all the pain and lack of sleep, but I start laughing, and crying at the same time. "Were you distracted thinking about me?"

"Not exactly. It's an odd sensation of not-feeling-nice, more than anything terrible. Maybe _unnerved_ is a better way to describe it? In any case, it decreases one's presence. Not good for fighting otherworldly creatures."

This news makes me happier than I've been in months.

"I'm feeling it to the extent you'll probably feel it when all is settled. Since you are human, you feel everything more. I am my grace, the magic we used changed it, keyed it into you, that is what I'm feeling. You are not used to grace, you'll feel the changes at a greater magnitude."

It's not heartening to know this will be a thing that always is. "What do we do about it?"

"We're just going to have to deal with it. We're not going to be able to stay in each other's presence at all times. It's not realistic."

He's right. But wait, I figure something out. "This hasn't happened to you before, has it?" He's talking about this like it's new, like he didn't expect it, at least on his end.

His jaw tightens. "No. It hasn't. There's always an element of feeling your mate, mostly so you can find one another, but an angel usually doesn't long for his mate like a human does his angel."

"What does that mean, Cas?"

"I don't know."

We stare at each other an immeasurable length of time before he speaks again. "Let's get you some sleep. We'll make these in the morning," he says, referring to the birds. He heads for the bedroom, and I follow after him like a duckling, almost tripping in the process, and way too giddy at the prospect of getting to _be_ with him. I'm somewhat mollified that it's all the magic's fault I'm feeling this way.

When we get to the bedroom, and Cas starts taking off his fucking clothes, I almost have a heart attack. He's beautiful, chiselled from the mountains of Olympus, or something like that. I'm staring, and I'm being creepy, but it's his damn fault getting naked in front of me like that. "What are you doing?" he says. "Get undressed."

Instead of complaining about him expecting me to read his damn mind, I swallow, and start undressing, feeling a bit uncomfortable about revealing to him my raging boner, but he's clearly got one too, so I don't think about it for too long. _Jesus, his cock is just as beautiful as he is._ I was too distracted to enjoy it properly when we mated.

As I undress, Cas kneels down in front of the bed. I look at him puzzled, until he glares at me. "What is taking you so long?"

"I'm not sure what you want me to do… what _you're_ doing."

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm about to speak with Father. Get over here."

Pray. He's about to pray he means, and he expects me to pray with him, doesn't he?

I comply, because it's not up for debate, but I'm less than thrilled. At least my boner deflates some. I kneel beside him and mimic his prayer posture. "Father, I thank you for providing me with a strong mate at the right time. I am pleased, and grateful."

Huh. I like that. Maybe this prayer stuff ain't so bad after all?

"He is devoted, intelligent, and he is honourable, but he is also disobedient and disrespectful. I know he'll be grateful for your help and guidance in that area."

…or maybe it's not so great. I bristle at the accusations on my character.

"I ask for your forgiveness on his behalf, and may you turn him from ill-behaviour, so that he does not have to suffer at the hand of my discipline. Thank you for forgiving him and choosing to forget his sin. Please continue to bless us on our journey. May we prove worthy of your love and mercy. Amen."

He elbow's me when I don't do anything, but I've watched enough T.V. to know what he's elbowing me for. "Amen."

He pulls back the covers and I follow him into the bed peeved, but when he pulls my naked body against his, cocooning around me, I can't feel anything but relief. My whole body sighs against him; I could stay like this forever.

"Don't worry, I will help you stay your path. That is part of what an angel does for his mate," he tells me. "You will make a good servant to God."

It's not something I was concerning myself with. But I'm not stupid, not at all, and he's not going to take me saying so well. I'm too exhausted for anymore of his _'discipline',_ so I don't bother. What does it matter anyway? It's not like God's ever going to show up to hold me to that. God left this place a long time ago.

I snuggle closer to him, and I can already feel sleep taking me.

He must feel it happening to me too. "Yes, that's right. Go to sleep, Dean."

That order's not hard to follow.

~**~

The next morning I panic when I wake up and Cas isn't there. But as I wake a little more, I catch onto a sense I either missed before, or couldn't feel yet. _Cas._ He isn't gone. He's nearby. If I'm deciphering properly, I'd say just outside of the cabin. Knowing that gives me relief, and I relax. Huh. Maybe the magic is settling.

I get up to dress, and I'm feeling good. _Too_ good. In fact, I feel the best I've ever felt. Without thinking, I reach to grab my pants with my dominant hand, the broken right one, but it's not broken anymore. I marvel at it, flexing and extending it like I haven't been able to in days. No pain. No issues. It's perfect. Even with fancy angel-healing abilities, no way it could heal that perfect.

My whole body buzzes. Cas did this.

I check everything over. I'm healed everywhere, _except_ the welts on my ass. Right. That was a punishment. I'm already getting an idea of how Cas's mind works—he's not likely to let punishment go easily if at all.

But with everything else healed, it seems like nothing, and I feel like a million bucks. I finish dressing, and follow the scent of cooking bird out to the front of the cabin where Cas has a fire going. I smile at him. "Thank you for healing me, Cas."

He nods, not taking his attention away from the birds, like it's no big deal.

"I can't help wonder, why did you though? I thought you said it was risky."

"It was, but it was far risker to leave you like that—these woods are dangerous. You are so strong, it's been hard to gauge your abilities, but now with the magic settling, I am getting a better sense."

I look at him with disbelief. "Yeah, I'd say it's pretty risky to leave me with one hand to use, Cas."

He doesn't like that. "And yet, it's a risk I'm willing to take should you decide to be disobedient."

Asshole. "Look, can we not fight for five seconds?"

"We didn't fight at all when I got back last night."

"I didn't mean literally five seconds, Cas. What I meant was, we don't get along very well."

He nods. "That is true. You aren't well-behaved, and it's irritating me to no end."

"Of course, it's all my fault."

"Yes. Do you need for me to replay back for you when you said you could behave, and that you'd do _anything,_ so long as I would mate with you?"

"No need, I remember."

"Your role is to be subservient to me. _Me._ Not who you wish I would be. I understand we knew nothing of the other when each made our decisions, a risk for both of us, but nonetheless, the choice was made and here we are. I won't bend for you. You will bend for me, or you will pay for it."

I set my jaw tight, biting back all my protests of what I feel is right and wrong, and what I think should happen. Values and beliefs vary. Everyone thinks _they_ have the good and moral reason for what they do even if I feel they don't. Arguing with people about such things is rarely fruitful.

For me, it's about context. I have entered a situation; one I knew was dangerous, and would piss me off daily, but I entered it nonetheless. I did promise I'd do what he wanted, he never promised I would like it. That much of it, I can respect and agree on, even if I have issue with _other_ things.

"You are going to learn to do things my way, Dean. You will show proper respect, and contrition. And fear. You will fear me."

"I already do, Cas."

People deal with fear in different ways, but no matter how they do, fact is you can't avoid your fears forever. So I prefer to dance with fear. I've become used to doing things afraid. Cas is just another to add to that pile.

"I do sense that, but it's contrary to the way you behave."

"It's contrary to the way you _think_ I should behave. Do you prefer cowering?" I smile.

"It is the more honourable thing to do," he says clearly re-contemplating that notion. "But I find at times I am partial to your bravery."

"Wait a minute," I say figuring something else out. "You like me, don't you?"

I know for a fact that when he first laid eyes on me, he _hated_ me, but things have changed. Cas doesn't like it. "I'm sure it's as a result of the mating."

"Really," I say crossing my arms. "Did you _like_ any of your other mates as much as you already like me? Hmmm?"

He takes the birds off his makeshift rotisserie and places them on what's left of a picnic table. "Eat this one, I'll disassemble the other you can keep with you in your pack to eat while we travel."

I move to dig into the bird, breaking off a leg, and dusting off whatever got on it from the old table—apocalypse living at its finest—and decide he's not going to answer me, but I know. Cas slaps my hand away from the bird leg. "Prayers before eating," he says.

"What? We didn't do this yesterday," I say. It's not a good defence, but it does confuse me.

"We were walking yesterday. If you're going to have a conversation with Father, I would prefer it to be when you can give it the proper attention, but a quick thank you Father before you snack never goes amiss. I'm sure he would still appreciate that."

My jaw is dropped. So this praying thing is going to happen, like, a lot? I am all kinds of uncomfortable, but I'm all out of fight today. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to argue about it on the road. "Uh, what do I say?"

"I will guide, as I did last night, but soon you will learn to compose your own prayers."

_Joy._

"Father, I thank you for providing this nutritious meal for my mate. It will help him remain strong for what lies ahead. Thank you for your love and mercy. Amen."

"Amen," I say without prompting, well, unless you count Cas's dagger-like eyes, which on on me.

He waits until I start, and I'm surprised as hell when he gives me an answer to my question. "While I didn't dislike them, I didn't _like_ many of my other mates much at all. This is, unexpected."

I beam at him, but eat my roasted bird in silence. He's having a hard time processing this, I don't doubt he won't hesitate to take it out on me with his nasty leather belt.

"Don’t think it's going to mean good things for you," he warns me. I shiver. "It simply makes me all the more possessive."

And he doesn't like that he _likes_ me, which irritates the fuck out of him. Got it. I eat and a thought occurs to me. "Is that why you let me call you, Cas?"

"It is permissible for me to allow for more familiarity with my mate."

But I don't forget I've been calling him Cas since well before then. I was wrong. Cas has never hated me. Hated what he feels for me, maybe, but not me.

There's no way he's forgotten this little fact, but he's hoping that I did. I don't say anything—he's not in the mood. He won't ever be. "So it's cool, then?"

"It would have been more appropriate that you ask for permission, but I will allow it, yes."

So many rules. But he is an angel, and the God-stuff always did have a lot of rules. I guess it makes sense.

"So, any chance I'm getting my angel blade back?" I ask. Him healing me's bolstered me with hope.

"No."

"Why? Shouldn't I have protection against an angel?"

"You have nothing worry about when it comes to angels."

That's the biggest understatement of the year. "Pretty sure I do, Cas."

"Let's put it this way, you have more to worry about with this angel if you don't drop it. No angel blades."

"Fine." I'll get it back one day.

When I've eaten and he's got the other bird hacked up for me, I gather up the pieces and carry them into the bedroom where I've got my pack, as he sets about putting out the fire—manually. It's weird watching an angel do things that way. From the little I've seen of angels, they tend to flaunt their grace like the status symbol they feel it is.

I'm able to fit the pieces of roast bird in my pack, within the empty bag I had my food from yesterday stored in. I use the blanket on the bed to wipe off my hands. I turn to see Cas has been watching me. You'd think I'd be able to tell he's directly behind me, with all the fancy new sensations I've acquired, but I can't, not exactly. I knew he was _around_ , and _close_ by, not where he was precisely.

The hair on my skin prickles, as his aura of danger seems to pick up pace, swirling like a tornado gaining speed. "Put the pack down. Undress."

I do without hesitation, but I do it carefully. Cas feels like a panther ready to strike. When I'm naked, he strides over to me, and pulls me in for a searing kiss. I respond without thought, I could kiss Cas for a lifetime. "Kneel," he says when I pull away.

I'm confused, but I do. Out of the pocket of his coat, he pulls out a circular band. I start to worry. "Cas, what is that?"

"This is your collar. You will wear it when I wish you to."

Collar? No fucking way. I move to jump up, but Cas is faster, grabbing me around the chest, and locking the collar on in one swift move. He then tosses me over the bed and I hear him removing his belt again. "Cas, no!"

But I know the drill by now. He's not going to stop until I submit, and he's going to punish me if he damn well pleases. As he begins to colour my bare ass, more red and black and blue than it already still is, I bury my face into the sheets, gripping them to prevent from moving, but if he wants quiet, well he's going to be fucking disappointed.

"Are you going to behave yourself?" he asks finally. "Or do I keep going?"

"I'll behave," I say in a watery voice. "Promise." He must feel my sincerity; he stops, and I cry into the sheets, as my ass cools. I'm not crying because of the pain, though it does hurt, I'm crying because I don't want to wear a fucking collar.

When we hit the road, I do my best not to feel anger, even if I want to run wild with it, and instead concentrate on feelings of acceptance. But try as I may, my displeasure seeps in, and it eventually gets on Cas's nerves. "Stop it," he says trudging on through the impossible brush at his gruelling pace. It is a little easier to keep up today, but it's tiring nonetheless.

I decide to exercise bravery. "I am obeying you, I'm not complaining, I'm doing my best to accept it, but beyond that, _Castiel_ , I'm only human."

In a strange twist of events, he doesn't like my use of _Castiel._ I feel the change in the air, his displeasure at that, and he's quiet for another few miles.

"What is your issue with the collar?" he asks, finally.

"You know, it's not even that you didn't ask me … exactly—I get that's the deal here—it's that I don't like collars. Never have."

"You don't _like_ it, fine, but it's not killing you or hurting you. I still don't understand."

"I feel as though I am less than you."

"You are."

"I know," I say, not because I believe I am, but I do know it's how angels think, and there's no use getting into that debate. "But it isn't pleasant feeling like I am."

"Humans did it to animals."

"They did, for the same reason."

"They did it to display ownership. It served as a device to reunite a pet with its owner when lost."

"Sure. Yes. But all of this decided by the human. Animals never consented to it. Putting a collar around a human's neck without it being something they wanted was thought of as wrong, but humans did it to animals using the narrative of safety, and protection. But even humans who would never collar another human without consent did this to animals because they felt it a decision they had a right to. And I don't care about their reason, what they _thought_ their reason was; I could _feel_ what the animals felt about the collar. They didn't want it."

"This proves my point, the humans knew better. The animals didn't have the logic necessary to make such a decision."

Ugh. He's impossible. "Forget it. We're not going to agree. You won't get trouble from me about it."

"No I won't get trouble from you about it, you'll wear it when I say you're to wear it, but we're not going to forget it. You will hear my reasons. If you don't hear my reasoning, then how are you ever to understand?"

"I'm not likely to agree."

"That's fine, but you will understand."

I stay quiet, waiting for his big explanation.

"I am feeling, unusually possessive of you. Since the collar is a sign of ownership, it will ward off more than if you didn't wear it. I assumed you would have been dismayed were I to kill another human for touching you."

"Kill them?"

"That's right, kill them."

"And why do you care if I'm dismayed, anyhow? You do what you want."

He nods. "I do. But I find I would _prefer_ to decrease some of the things that could be avoided. This is something simple that could reach that end, not to mention it pleases me to see you wear my collar, Dean."

That comes as no surprise.

"It also serves as a tool to find you should we get separated. It cannot be removed, except with my grace."

"Can't you sense where I am through the bond-whatever we have going on?"

"I can, and yes I could eventually find you, but this is more precise. Not to mention, few creatures will take a collared mate. Since they can't remove the collar, they would be inviting my wrath should they try. It's a deterrent as much as a homing beacon."

I think about what he says. "Look I still don't like it, _or_ agree fully, but… yeah, I understand." It does cool me some to understand.

"I do hope someday you'll be proud to wear my collar."

He sounds genuinely hopeful. He _feels_ genuinely hopeful. "I wish I could say that's a possibility, but I'm sorry, I just don’t see it happening. Please don't beat my ass for saying that."

He's quiet again another long while. "I still don't like it, _or_ agree fully, but I understand."

"You just stole my line, Cas."

"Am I Cas again?" he says.

Fuck. I get all shy and shit with him looking at me like that, like he likes me. He's kind of adorable, for a psychotic Angel. "Yeah. You're Cas again."

~NOW~

"It's been two days, we've been walking for two days. I'm human, _Castiel._ "

"Don't be put out with me. It's _your_ brother we're trying to find."

"And yours," I remind him, not that he could forget. "And I would keep going, but I'm about to collapse."

"Push yourself. Just a little bit further."

Cas doesn't know the meaning of a little bit. "Dear Father, who art in heaven—"

"— _Dean—_ "

"—please show your son the value of mercy, and kindness—"

"—one more word of that _'prayer',_ and I'll stick your tongue to the roof of your mouth at my first opportunity."

I shut up and resign myself to walking at Cas's arduous pace. We left the last Community where I met Jo ages ago, and have been on the road, walking, trying to stay out of sight, and off anyone's radar. The whole while, Sam's riddle's been running on a loop in my head. It's still a bunch of nonsense to me. I feel like I'm failing Sammy not being able to figure it out.

We chance upon a camp from Raphael's Community, and I'm excited. I can only have _just_ the Angel as company for so long, and then I need other people. "I will see if they have space for us," Cas says. " _You_ will find a place to pray suitably enough to repent your poor behaviour."

It's hard not to laugh, or roll my eyes. He's still pissed about my comedic little prayer, and here I thought he was learning about what jokes were. Well I know I was funny, and if all I get is to have to redo it, the entertainment value is totally worth it.

I saunter through the camp with my pack on, the humans smile at me, but everyone looks uneasy, which is normal in camps. Camps aren't as safe as Communities. But camps are necessary to garner supplies, and other humans. Humans are usually more than happy to be invited to any one Community—despite any rules that might come with that Community—but they have to know where it is. Communities aren't just hidden by location, but also by magic.

"Um, prayer tent? Prayer area?" I say to a younger man reading to a little girl.

"Yeah, here I'll take you, so long as you don't mind this one coming," he says referring to the little girl. "We found her wandering all by herself."

"Course. What's your name, pretty thing?"

She gets shy, and curls into her caretaker. "She's Tela, and I'm Kevin," he says extending his hand.

I pretend not to see it. Cas is in a mood. He's likely to maim over handshakes. "Dean," I tell him holding tight to the straps of my pack.

"C'mon Dean, let's get you to that tent."

As we walk, I tell him the needs to know information about myself, for his safety, and mine. "I'm passing through with the angel Castiel. My mate."

"Oh! Oh, Dean and Castiel. Yes, I know of you both. Your mating is a popular ship."

"What-what-what now?"

"You know, ship, as in relation _ship_?"

"I know what it means dude, why is it a ship? You do know what mating with an angel means, right?" I'm not one to talk, I knew shit about angel mating and I did it anyway. At least I can say I was at the beginning of the _After_ with my stupidity—more people knew less then, than they do now.

"Yes. Castiel is pretty dreamy."

I consider telling him to see if said dreamy angel would like to take on a second mate, both to see Cas's face, and to impart an important lesson into this kid's psyche—in this world, he needs to know a little more about the dangers. How has he made it in an apocalyptic world all this time, with that much naivety?

In the end, I abandon the idea. _That_ punishment would not be worth it, even if it's a good lesson the kid needs.

We make it to the tent, I thank him and he leaves.

I head inside. It's a large tent, and like other places, it's got assorted religious paraphernalia hung around it. _Seriously, who has to carry all that crap around?_ Leave it to angels to find such things important even for the camps. You'd think you'd want more hands to carry supplies, but Angels feel these missions/supply runs are doomed without prayer and worship.

I place my pack down, and kneel before the alter, not bothering with the makeshift pews, since no one else is here. I contemplate what would most please Cas. He will often ask me if I've done his bidding, if he's sent me away from him to do so. Lying is ill-advised, especially with our heightened empathic abilities we acquired from the mating.

The thing with feelings is, they are left open to interpretation. Every person feels particular feelings for different reasons; honing in on the precise details of that feeling can usually only happen by asking or seeing. So while Cas can't always determine _why_ , or _what_ , he can feel my response and get a sense of it. He's also gotten to know me over the years. He can _feel_ when I might be lying, and then he can check inside my head.

"Father, please hear this prayer, and forgive my sins. Today I made a mockery of you, and the angel Castiel when I tried to use prayer for my own amusement… and also to antagonize your most loyal son. Please help guide him, to guide me better, and make more conscious choices in the future. Thank you for your love and mercy. Thank you for choosing to forgive me and forget this sin. I also request and appreciate your continued protection and guidance on our quest, should you deem us worthy. Amen."

I hear a giggle from behind me. It's not something that should cause me panic, but it does. I grip the amulet, and snap my head around. A young boy is there. Maybe five? I didn't see him when I came in. He looks eerily fucking familiar.

"You're silly," he says. "How do you use prayer for amusement?"

I absently reach for my pack. _Please don't be a fucking demon. Why do they have to possess the bodies of children?_ He's a little boy, but he speaks too eloquently for a little boy, he can't be a regular little boy—he's something.

"I don't recommend it kid," I say. I'm hoping to stall him, or it until I figure out whether or not I have to kill it.

"Father doesn't like me to pray," he tells me.

"I'd say you're lucky then. Don't like praying much myself."

"Do you know why I'm here?" he asks. He's honestly wondering. I don't think he knows. Suddenly his eyes look away, he's afraid. "I have to go," he says. Then vanishes into thin fucking air.

My heart is racing, I've never been that scared, and that's saying a lot. Still trying to breathe right, I grab my pack and leave the prayer tent, resolved to run straight to Cas, but I don't need to. He's headed for me and he's furious.

"Cas?"

"We are _not_ staying here. Let's go."

He turns on heel, coat flaring behind him. I follow quickly to catch up, stowing my disappointment that there will be no hot meal, or soft cot, and that I'm in for yet more walking when I'm already beyond endurance.

When we're far enough away, and I can feel he's cooled some, I investigate. "Cas? What happened?"

"I warn you, you will not be pleased—someone died."

"Cas, did you kill someone?"

"Yes."

"Do I want to know why?"

"No—did you know people _ship_ us?"

"You killed someone for shipping us?"

"Not exactly—yes."

I don't say it, but my emotions are not hard to read. The news upsets me.

"Don't be put out with me, Dean. You cannot expect me to listen to someone say… particular things about you and remain calm."

That had to take some level of foolishness, and naivety. Who would say such things to an angel about his mate? Not that I think whoever deserved to die, but that is a pretty fucking stupid thing to do. It's a good reminder to me that no matter some of our softer moments, Cas is a deadly angel, and I always need to be wary.

We walk on, and I say goodbye to sleep for another night, grateful for fancy, angel-enhanced strength and happy Cas is too distracted for me to have to explain about the boy who vanishes into thin air.

~Sam~

"Jack? Jack? You can come out now."

The little boy clambers out of his hiding spot. Lucifer knew he was there, but was fine with beating me in front of him. At least he can only hear, and not see from where he hides. I try to be quiet.

He runs to me, reaching upward. I pick him up easily. "You're hurt," he says staring at my face; it must look terrible. He reaches up reflexively, wanting to heal me.

I snatch his wrist. "No healing, remember."

His face twists in anger. "I'm going to murder him one day."

It's such a shocking thing to come out of a little boy's mouth, but Jack has never been a little boy. "Don't say such things, or I will spank you." He _can't_ talk like that, Lucifer is only a hair's width away from turning his anger on the boy. I don't have the luxury of using parenting techniques from Psychology Today. Children shouldn't fear their parents, but Jack needs to fear Lucifer, and understand how dangerous he is.

"Fine," he says. "Then I will save you. I'm going to take you away from here."

His heroism makes me smile, reminding me of Dean. Jack has a good heart—like Dean. "Oh?"

He nods. "Yeah. I think I got a guy."

A good heart and a brilliant imagination. "A guy you say. What's this guy like?"

"He's really funny."

"Funny is important," I say carrying him over to the bed.

"I'm not sure how to go about it though, Sammy."

I lie down on the side of my torso that's reasonably okay, and sit him before me, rubbing his tiny, bare foot. "Well I'd say if you're going to make a rescue plan, your guy has to know how to get here, wouldn't you?"

He giggles, how he finds it in him to giggle with his life the way it is, is beyond me, but it gives me life. "Yeah. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Well there you go. Something to work on for your plan. But Jack, no more playing with your father's stuff, okay?"

His eyes well with tears, and he hugs me around my neck. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Hey, hey, don't worry about me, kiddo." I'm worried about him. I've been able to protect him up until now, but when will that run out? "Just obey me on this one, okay?"

He nods into my neck. I can feel his wet tears. I sit up, gather him to me and rock him, as I coo soft words and give him the affection he doesn't get enough of.


	3. We Didn't Start the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feb 5, 2019  
> _________________________
> 
> I accidentally wrote two chapters for this story, while I was taking a WW break, before I edited. *winces* As some have speculated, this may take me more than 10 chapters. I hope that's a good thing.

SAM

I don't like to look at it. But occasionally I _have_ to see it, an urge I don't quite understand. Lucifer had a large 'L' tattooed to the back of my neck, which sits under my collar. It's got swirling patterns surrounding it, and an Enochian phrase that means I belong to him. I rub as much of the tattoo that's available to me, and stare at the top of the 'L', which is about all I can see without a second mirror.

I also have tattoos on my body in various other locations. All meant for further control, which is unnecessary (in my opinion) with the kind of bond we ended up forming. I don't wear much for clothing anymore. Lucifer prefers it anyway, so I can be ready for him when he needs me, but it's also what I prefer. I stick to flow-y, thin, robes.

I've developed an odd kind of claustrophobia from too many times being trapped under water. Anything that feels too heavy, too _confining_ sends me into a breathless panic attack, beyond my control.

One benefit of the bond, Lucifer feels when I suffer, and there are some kinds of my suffering that he can't bear. He is very careful when he chooses to restrain me. Of course beating me almost to death excites him. No problems for him there. But it is nice to have some modicum of control, tiny as it may be.

Today I'm draped in pale blue; in one of the lightest fabrics Lucifer could have his seamstress find me. I don't wear shoes, or socks. The most I can wear when I go out are sandals.

I feel the familiar tingle wash over my body, a sensation that's strengthened by the tattoos.

_Lucifer._

He's looking for me. I look over to Jack. "I have to go see your father. Stay here, please, unless you need food from the kitchens."

"When we gonna go outside, Sammy?"

He really does need to get outside more than we do. He's pale, even for a Nephilim. "I will see what I can arrange."

"You've said that before."

 _Sigh._ I do say that a lot; I'm seldom able to deliver. "C'mere, sweetheart."

He barrels off the bed, toward me, and I scoop him up. He nuzzles into me. "Can I come with you?"

I check the bond to see how Lucifer is feeling. _Irritation._ Which is his normal state. I could bring him. "All right then, but you have to promise to behave. That means being quiet no matter what you see." Jack's seen more than any little boy was meant to. There's little I can keep from his eyes, as much as I wish I could. Under the circumstances, it's better to talk things over with him, teach him how to act, and what to do about the things he sees. Not ideal, but what I feel will serve him best for survival.

At least Lucifer doesn't mind me doting on Jack, so long as it doesn't interfere with my doting on him. It pleases him, in fact, like he thinks it makes us a family. I'm not sure I've met an angel yet who knows the meaning of the phrase _family_. But his warped view works for me. I can keep Jack close, and protect him as best I can, since Lucifer expects him to be with me.

I follow to where I can feel he is, in the large room with the fancy throne, so he can command all his subjects and lord over them. He considers himself a Lord, and expects to be treated as such. He can sense me too, he knows I am outside the doors, which is why I don't have to ask his guards for admittance—the doors simply open for me.

I set Jack down, and he knows to follow close by my legs. I keep my pace even, so his little legs don't have to struggle to keep up to mine. Everyone's stopped to watch us, fascinated. It doesn't seem to matter how long either of us have been here, we – Jack and I – never cease to be a topic of interest.

When I reach Lucifer, I prostrate before him, letting my hips slide back deeply, as I extend my arms over my head and get as low to the ground as possible. It's a position I've had to work on to perfection. Lucifer isn't nearly so fussy with anyone else, but it was always intended I would be his mate, and his mate is meant to perfect such things to show utter adoration. Jack does the same, in his little boy version, until he tells us we may rise.

"You wanted to see me, my Lord?" I say.

"Yes. I see you have brought my son." He looks at Jack expectantly.

"Go say hello to your father," I tell him having to give a little push of encouragement with my hand to his shoulder blades. He's terrified of Lucifer.

Jack steps forward, bowing slightly, showing proper deference like I taught him. "Hello, Father."

"Are you behaving yourself?" There was the incident the other day with Lucifer's quantum ball. He still hasn't forgiven Jack.

Jack looks back to me, and I nod. "Yes, Father."

"Good. See to it you remain well-behaved. You're old enough, and angel _enough_ to receive a good hiding."

Jack gives a shaky nod, and looks back to me again. I wave him over to me, and he runs back to my legs, hiding in my robes. I put a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

"Sam, my beautiful. I brought you here, because I have news. It is time to travel again."

Anxiety pools in my gut and I hate it. I hate that I can't be without him. And that my lip wobbles. And that I shake. All at the _thought_ of him leaving.

He enjoys the whole thing. "If you ask me nicely, perhaps I will bring you with me."

It's all a nasty game. He's just as chained to me. He would leave without me though, and suffer in that way just so I will suffer, but he doesn't prefer to travel without me. It was different, when he first took me. I would have loved to spend any amount of time free of him, but over time things changed, and changed yet again after we mated. Our bonding was… weird. "And Jack?"

"And Jack."

"If it pleases you, will you bring us with you, my Lord?"

"Of course, pretty pet." He snaps his fingers to the pillow beside his chair, and I know to sit at this feet. Jack comes with me. He's small enough to curl up between my crossed legs. He's been very good so far, not uttering a word other than when he was meant to, and I squeeze his hand, a little code between us to tell him he's done well.

We sit for as long as Lucifer wants us to, while he conducts business. After a while, I can tell Jack is hungry. I might be, I don't know. I don't have much of an appetite anymore. I make myself eat at regular intervals, so I have strength for Jack, and so that Lucifer doesn't have to force me—that's an experience I don't want to repeat.

Either way, we both need to eat. I push the desire toward him. For all the things he's not good at, feeding us is not one of them. Especially with us mated, it's something he's cognizant of, it's only when he gets busy like he is now, he forgets. Lucifer snaps his fingers at someone to bring us food, and I force myself to pick at the tray when it's placed before us. Jack has no problems eating when he's hungry, so he digs in, but he's perceptive and notices how little I eat, pushing cheese at me. I roll my eyes and smile. I eat the cheese.

In some ways things are better since Jack. I have something soft and sunny to distract me from the hard and dark. But I spend a lot of time worried about him, and I don't wish this life on anyone, especially a little boy.

We've become close in a short time, and we may not have a mating bond to speak through, but we've become proficient enough at wordless communication. It's survival.

It ends up being a long day of sitting by Lucifer's side, and I think about poor Jack who's too scared to be restless in a way a normal young boy would be, but he is starting to squirm a little. "Do you have to pee, sweetheart?" I whisper in his ear.

He looks over to his father with large eyes, not wanting to ask him, but he nods at me. I get Lucifer's attention again, I could use a bathroom break too. He scowls at me this time, hating my human necessities, but he waves his hand signalling for us to go.

Jack walks close behind me, reaching out to catch the thin fabric of my robes. When we reach outside the doors beyond Lucifer's sight, I snatch him up and take long strides to the closest washroom. He's got to pee worse than he's let on, and he's got a little boy's bladder, even if he acts like he's a million years old sometimes.

I only just get him there in time. He's got tears in his eyes. These moments are hard. I have to do what will help him, rather than what I'd like to do. "What's up, buddy?"

"I almost peed myself, like an idiot."

"It wasn't your fault, but even if it had been, what's wrong with that?"

"I don't feel like it's normal…?" he says, unsure.

I help him wash up, take my own turn peeing, and sit him on the counter. We shouldn't be gone too long – I already feel Lucifer wondering where we are – but Jack needs a minute. "There isn't a normal Jack. Not anymore. These things happen, they're going to continue to happen, and we just move on. We talk about our feelings over them, and then we let it go, okay?"

He gives a firm nod.

We return, and Lucifer isn't happy, as to why, I can only guess. Change in the wind? Lost his favourite shoes? "Sam, I need you in the bedroom. I don't care if the boy is there, but you will. Prepare yourself for me, wait there until I'm finished." Lucifer must want me all to himself, if he's bothering to wait at all. He's not opposed to taking me whenever, and wherever he pleases.

"Yes, my Lord."

Jack is happy our time in what he calls the Boring Room, is done, and he's near a smile as we head back up to the bedroom. "We gonna to get to go outside after, Sammy?"

"I said I would arrange it, but it's not going to be today I'm afraid."

Jack tries to hide his disappointment.

"You know, soon? we're going to spend a long time outside. You'll get sick of being outside."

"Really?"

"Yep."

His whole face lights up, so I can see the dimple on his left cheek.

"For now, I need you to go down to the kitchens. Tabby will feed you some more." She also looks after Jack when I can't.

"I want to stay with you, Sammy."

"You can't. Not right now. G'on. I'll send for you."

He chews at this lip.

"I'll be okay. Be a good boy for Tabby."

He nods into my legs with a tight squeeze and I watch him run off. These are the times he acts out and gets in the most trouble. Well-intended, but still trouble.

In the bedroom, I remove the thin robes, and hang them in the closet with the others. From Lucifer's special cabinet, I pull out an assortment of things he can use on me. Too much of my body is already bruised and beaten, and I try not to think about what that's going to feel like, but choosing the _softer_ items, which aren't all that soft in the first place, does me no favours. Instead I choose things I know will please him. Pain with his delight is better than pain with his rage.

Attached to the bed are two leather straps. They aren't restraints exactly, just long strips of brown leather with looped ends. My wrists easily slip in and out of the loops, in a way that does not give me the sensation of being confined. They give me something to grip.

I get onto the bed, slipping my wrists through the straps first, spread my knees wide as I can, and sit my hips back into the space. My ass is exposed, and spread enough to see my entrance. That's how I wait for him, what he expects.

I feel him approaching before he's here, and on the one hand it gives me time to prepare myself, but the dreadful anticipation grows. What awful things is he going to do to me this time?

"Sam," he says, when he's behind me, and I jump despite knowing he's there. "Shhh," he coos, running a hand along my back, sending shivers through me. My cock can't help it, it's tuned to him now, and it stands at attention, filling with blood. I'd like to say that's the bond, and to some extent it is, the mates of angels crave their angel like a dehydrated human for water, but it was like this to some degree before we mated. I know this as well as he does, a little fact he loves to point out.

"What has you so angry, Luci?" I chance. He's going to beat me anyway.

He slips a finger into my entrance, which is already wet with the fluid my body makes because of our mating. A mating forever changes a human. Even if a human is to lose their angel the changes remain. It's the same for angels "Hnnnng…" God it feels so good. I hate how good it feels, but I let myself enjoy nonetheless – there is very little to enjoy these days. It's not like I can hide it from him anyway. Passion like this is too difficult to cover, unless there's another, much stronger emotion to feel, and makes sense for the situation.

"Gabriel's Community. We didn't take it," he explains pumping his finger in and out of me idly, like he's filing taxes.

He's had his sights on that Community a long while, meticulously planning its take over. Ah. Now his anger makes sense. Hiding my joy over his failure is difficult, but I manage to school my emotions to neutral, there is nothing I can do about the relief, but knowing what this means for me, because he will exercise his frustration on me, it's easy to shift into terror. My heart starts beating wildly.

He removes his finger, and retrieves an implement. "You put out the prison strap for me, I am pleased."

Before the strap strikes, I feel every bit of rage coursing through him, and it adds to the force when the thick strap makes contact with my skin. I cry out, grateful for the brown leather to hold onto. From there it's worse. He spends too much time, strapping all the skin on my back, tracing back over welts that are already too hot and painful. "Ahhhh! Ahhaahh!" My wailing sobs sound more like screams. My cock wanes and perks like it's on a roller coaster, liking some pain, but not the intensity Lucifer mets out. "T-Too… too much. _Please_ Luci."

He hits me harder for that. He loves my begging, and the sounds I make when I suffer, but that doesn't mean he won't make me pay for it too. After all, I'm supposed to be a proper little submissive mate, here for him to do as he pleases with. Wants to fuck me into oblivion? Fine. Want's to use me as a punching bag when he loses a war with one of his brothers? Fine. I'm not supposed to protest, but it hurts too much, and there's nothing I can do to keep quiet.

I do take myself away to a special place in my mind, so I can handle more. It does me no favours to pass out, so I work to stay lucid, while at the same time, trying to pretend I'm not even here, leaving my body to be beaten like a lump of meat, while my mind drifts elsewhere. Finally, when his strap is wet with too much of my blood, he tosses it aside. It no longer makes the sound he likes at that point. But a cane will for a time, and he uses his favourite one to lay stripes across the mess he's made of my back. It hurts just as much as you think it would.

I can't hold still at all, not that I was anyway, but I had some control over my body before. That's gone now. There's only screaming and writhing, and arching.

"Sam! You're exquisite. No one screams like you," he says, his voice heavy with lust. His rage is cooling some though, if marginally, and I couldn't tell you why that makes it better, but it does. When the cane sounds like it's only hitting a dough ball, he stops, and thrusts into me hard, lighting my body with a new kind of pain from the inside. My body craves being full of him, and somehow I find the energy to seek him through the burning pain.

"Please, please… more."

"More of what? My cane?"

"If-if it pleases you."

"That's not what you wanted, tell me."

"More of your cock, sir."

"Then you shall have it. See? I give you what you want. I'm so good to you."

I can just hear Dean saying the words, _delusional psychopath_ , and that makes me smile during my borderline madness, because I am slowly going mad.

But none of that changes how much I need him to keep fucking me. _Him._ Lucifer proved that little point to me too sometime ago. Passing me off to whoever, so I could see what it felt like to have others, and _know_ I didn't want them, that nothing feels as good as he does inside me. He would make me beg to have his cock over theirs, and profess how much I need him.

Lucifer comes, and I haven't. I want to, yet I'd rather just have him inside me again than anything else. Once we start down this road, it ignites a frenzy in me, one only satisfied by multiple couplings, until I can barely move. After he's filled me, and inserted a plug that's just this side too big to hold his come inside me, he slumps down behind me, naked, urging me to release the brown leather straps, as he pulls me into him. I try to wiggle to find his cock. "I know lovely, I will give you more. Even angels need some refractory." He brushes my hair, wet from sweat, and blood out of my eyes, and kisses my cheek, all the gentle a sharp contrast to the violence he loves. "You're so beautiful like this, Sam. I love owning your pain – so calming, and delicious." And he is calmed – I do calm him, the staff is appreciative. "Maybe I'll make you beg me to break some of your bones, so you can have the reward of my cock next? You did put the crowbar out. You'd like that, wouldn't you, beautiful?"

 _No._ "Whatever pleases you, Luci." But I do want to be full of him again, desperately. He can break whatever he wants, not that he needs my consent, but if he did, he has it.

"In a bit then. First I want to talk to you. We are going to be gone for some time. There's every chance you might go a bit mad."

Once you've been living in Lucifer's magical ocean of drowning creatures for as long as I have, you become part of them, and they a part of you. You can never escape them. I can't go near the ocean for anything, but I can't leave it either. I often stare at it from my balcony, listening to them call me, begging for me to either return to them, or save them. I'm just as afraid that I will go to them, as I am that I won't. Leaving their vicinity for too long is… bad.

"Much as I do love your suffering, it's not the same when you're incoherent. I really was giving you a choice, and in front of everyone so they'd understand how important you are."

Lucifer likes to think it's him and me against the world.

"I _have_ to go, Sam. But due to the length I won't make you come with me this time."

That's about as kind as he gets. "You know I can't be away from you that long," I say gripping his wrist tightly, and wrapping him around me further like he might slip away any second. "I'm likely to go mad anyway." It's a lose-lose for me, but at least with him around, he can restore some of my sanity. "Better if you're there." I mumble the last bit, trying to keep hold of my consciousness. Everything hurts.

"I know." For all his arrogance, Lucifer understands that I am intelligent. He boasts about the high intelligence of his mate, and how only someone like me could possibly measure up enough to be his mate in the first place. This is Lucifer's way of asking me which is easier to handle – not that either is easy. He's pleased to know being without him is worse. "Okay, you and Jack come then." He places his hand behind my skull and seeps grace into me, healing me _just_ enough, and jolting me wide-awake. "Can't have you falling asleep for the best part. I think I'll start with your elbow – a lot of nerves in the human elbow. Then perhaps pretty breaks all down your radial bone. How would you like that?"

But his fingers are inside me again, and his other hand on my cock. I think… I think I've been lost to the madness a long time now. "Please. Whatever pleases you. I _need_ you." Tears are streaming down my face, at the thought he might not do it, that he might leave. Much as I hate what he does, much as it breaks me, it also makes me whole.

"Good, good boy. Love those tears, Sam. Let's begin."

~DEAN~

"Bad. Bad boy," Cas says. All he needs is a rolled up newspaper.

I can't contain my eye roll, or my snark; not a good idea. "I'm not a dog, Cas."

He grabs me by my jacket collar, and I instantly regret sassing him. "Why are you acting out?"

In the beginning, Cas would beat first, ask questions… well, if he felt like it, and sometimes never. And as much as he genuinely enjoys beating my ass, we do have shit to get done, and he realized if he'd like to get more of it done, cutting down on the number of times he needs to discipline me was warranted. Not that he doesn't still beat my ass plenty.

"I'm missing my brother, okay?" It hits me at odd times. Sometimes it's something that reminds me of him, and other times, a memory randomly pops in my head making me happy for a minute, only to make me sad the next, and worried.

"We've been over this."

"I'm not asking you to spank me, you can go hang yourself."

Cas's eyes light with fury. He won't be talked to that way, especially not by me. "Take your pants down, now, or I'll do it for you, which means they'll be ripped off, destroyed, and won't that be terrible having to walk for miles half naked, hmm?"

Not feeling generous, I obey him because no, I don't want to walk miles with my dick hanging out, but I'm not the submissive little mate he'd like. He bends me over his arm, and lays into my ass with his hand, which is no less exacting than his nasty strap. At the relentless pace he spanks me, it's hard to keep still. "C'mon Cas, I'm sorry," I beg.

"I want to hear why I am spanking you and why you're going to behave yourself from here on out." Cas is just as delusional as I am if he thinks I'll behave _from here on out._

"I was disobedient, and disrespectful. Ow! I'm going to behave myself, because if I don't, you'll beat my ass."

"Yes to the first, not exactly to the second." He continues like we're having a conversation about the weather and he's not lighting my ass afire.

I sob. "Ow, Cas! Owwww, because… I'm going to behave, because I do have respect for my mate and I want to show him what a good boy I can be, fuck, ouch!"

He spanks me until I'm sure sitting is a thing of the past, then he kicks my jeans and boxers off, shoving his cock into me, pressing me into a nearby tree, sinking his teeth down into my proffered neck, my way of showing him I'm back in the place of obedience he wants me. When he's done with me, I'm left wondering, as I usually am, why the hell I talk back to him in the first place? I've also got a raging hard-on, because no I don't dare to ask to come in a situation like this, my ass hurts and I know it's bruised, and my guts feel awful for being a shithead. Sometimes Cas deserves my ire, but not this time. I know coming is a reward.

I check for the amulet, making sure it didn't get knocked off in the struggle— _it's there_ —and I kneel at his feet waiting for further instruction. "Put on your boxers, pants in your pack," he says, arms crossed, still put out with me. He's annoyed. He likes to hurt me, to discipline me, to fuck me hard, but today he was on a mission and this was just an unnecessary interruption.

He's got something else planned, to keep me in my place, and I'm not liking where this is going. When I've done as he's asked, he curls his finger at me, and I sullenly move over to him. His fingers slip under the elastic, and he pulls the back of my boxers down, exposing my bruised ass, still leaking with his glittery angel spunk. "Cas?"

His eyes are dark and flooded with danger. "You need a reminder to speak respectfully. You can walk like this for a bit, and if you should think to get snarky again, this set up has the added bonus of making it easy for me to immediately remind you with something whippy to whom you are speaking."

The protest is on my lips, but I don't dare. This can get worse. Instead I grab my pack, and follow Cas who's already started walking away. I sulk all the way. Thankfully it's a warm day, and fuck if this doesn't turn me on. This discipline stuff does that to me in a weird way. I want it and don't. That's a hard thing to reconcile.

"Haven't you ever missed anyone, Cas?"

"No."

Of course not. "Is that because angels don't know how?" He can tell I'm honestly asking, and not being an asshole.

"What would be the point? Missing is a pointless emotion. When someone is gone, they are gone. We angels let it go and move on with our mission for Father."

"It's not different for mates?"

"I suppose to a degree. I would be obliged to find you at some point, but that's only if I felt like it."

"What's that supposed to mean, Cas?"

"There's no use in talking about this. The bond won't allow you to stay away from me anyway. Not for long."

"What if I was taken? You wouldn't come for me?"

"I would. If I required you for something."

He's an asshole. "So when you left me to learn doctor stuff, you didn't miss me at all?" I thought he had. It _felt_ like he had, but I hadn't asked, and feelings aren't always what they seem.

"No. I was busy."

I feel like a fool, because I missed the fuck out of his stupid ass. "Well glad we cleared that up." I feel like punching him in the throat, but I keep that to myself. Besides, I long ago took on the responsibility of my feelings for Cas, even if I get riled sometimes. Having the feelings weren't my fault, but they did become my responsibility. Sometimes I hardly know why I love Cas, other than that I just do. He's certainly not someone I'd take home to Mama for dinner.

I take a few cleansing breaths and let everything go. Cas and his assholeness, the fact my brother is still with his even worse angel dick brother and there's nothing I can do about it, and I move to thinking about nothing, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Suddenly, Cas freezes. "Dean, _run_."

But I don't get the chance. There's an explosion in front of us, separating me from Cas, and it sends me flying. My eyes search, franticly for him. I can feel him, somewhere off in the distance, but I can't pin point where. Things are on fire, there's smoke, and my head is spinning from being thrown a bunch of feet.

I remember Cas told me to run, and I make good on that order knowing if we do survive whatever's happening, and he finds out I didn't, that punishment will be a whole lot more severe than the one he just gave me.

I keep to the trees, trying to listen for anything, but all I can hear is roaring fire, and the sound of my footsteps. I pull up my ginch, so I can run a little faster. Cas telling me to run overrides the other, and I jump behind a large log, to assess just what the fuck is going on. Cas feels even further away now, and that itchy feeling of not being close builds to an aching that says, _go back, go back._ I ignore it, best I can, and look, but fucking nothing.

Next I know, something is beside me, and I almost jump out of my skin. "Hello," he says.

It's the vanishing boy from the camp. "Did you do that?" I ask.

"Do what?"

Just like before, his giant eyes are eerily familiar. Holy fuck. I know those eyes. They're Sammy's eyes. I'm crazy. I've lost it. I've finally fucking lost it for real. "You didn't start the fire?"

"Fire?"

Throwing caution to the wind, I grab him up and show him what's coming.

He shakes his head. "No. I didn't do that, I _swear._ "

I don't know if he's lying or not, or what the hell he is, because he _is_ something, I just can't fathom what. All I do know is little boys can't appear any old place at any old time, especially in the middle of dangerous woods. "We have to run," I tell him.

I keep him close to me, and fucking run like the wind with him in my arms, grateful for all the miles of gruelling walking I do with Cas. I'm in great shape to do this, even with a kid in my arms, plus, fancy angel-mate enhancements.

Eventually we're far away from Cas. Really fucking far. And I'm sure he'll come find me _eventually_. Not because he misses me or anything, when he fucking feels like it. Yeah I'm still fucking bitter.

I slow my pace, and put the kid down, crouching to his level and making sure he's all right. He doesn't seem to have a scratch on him. "What's your story kid? Where are your parents?"

He's watching me like I'm a fascination. "My mother is dead," he tells me like an adult would, but in a little kid voice. It's un-fucking-nerving.

"Uh, mine too." Maybe his parents are dead, and he's been wandering like that little girl with Kevin in the camp. Could he have followed us this far? I doubt it. Not at Cas's pace. "What about your dad?"

The kid's eyes go dark, with a faint yellow glow behind them. "I hate him."

Holy shit. "So did you run away?"

Suddenly all business, he grabs my shirt by its collar. "I need your help."

"Whoa, pal." He's a bit too close to touching the amulet, and touching in general. When Cas said no one is to touch it, or me, he meant no one. I grab his tiny hand, gently, and take it away. "I wish I could promise you help, but I doubt my mate will allow it." I'm not entirely sure what Cas will do with the kid if he were to find out about him. Likely, he'll just see him as a liability.

"Look, I'm gonna be outside a lot soon. But we'll come back, and maybe you could be there when I'm back?"

I look at him like he's from space. He might well be. I have no idea what he means by any of that.

"What kind of help do you need?"

"A friend of mine's in danger. I'm too little to save him now. I need a big person."

"A friend? What about you? You're not in danger?" The kid looks fine physically, if a little pale and small, but that haunted look in his eyes speaks of another kind of damage.

"Well, me too, if you've got time. But him first." His head snaps up and he looks around, seeing things I'm not. "I've got to go, but I have to give you the directions."

"Directions?"

For some reason, that makes him giggle. "Yeah, silly. How can you get to us, if you don't have directions? My friend's real smart. He told me that."

God. _Why's this kid remind me so much of Sammy?_

Maybe that's what possesses me to do what I do next. "Yeah, okay. Hit me up. I'll do my best."

He smiles huge. "I knew you'd help. I knew it."

But he doesn't get to give me directions. Another explosion hits, and sends us both flying. I see him get up, only a little disoriented. Seriously, what the fuck _is_ that kid? I get up slowly, trying to get my bearings, so I can grab the kid and run, but I'm surrounded this time. "Hi, Dean," one, a dude-one, says all friendly-like.

Ugh. Dick angels and I've got no angel blade because Cas still won't let me have mine back. "Fuck! Where's Castiel?" I remember our familiarity is _mostly_ between us.

"Such naughty language. Does your master approve of this? Perhaps you need someone who can teach you better manners," one of the chick-angels says.

"Fuck you," I say still on the ground, not bothering to move. There are too many. I'll get injured, and then I won't be able to make my escape when I need to. "Where's Castiel?" I try again.

She shrugs. "Gone. But no matter, we know how to get him to follow."

"What? Me? Good luck with that." Cas is probably glad for the break. Yeah sure, he likes me and all, but maybe it's not as much as I thought. "But if he does decide to come get me, he's going to blow you all apart." Cas does not like people fucking with his stuff.

She doesn't seem to care. "Are we going to get trouble from you?"

"No."

She reaches out to put a hand on me, and I step back without thinking, used to preventing people from touching me. "I have to touch you if you're going to fly with me."

"So long as you're okay with him killing you first."

"I'll take my chances."

She does. And we're gone, but before we disappear into nothing, I check for the kid; he's gone. Whether he vanished or ran, I don't know. Either way, it's for the better.

SAM

The only upside to Lucifer inflicting more damage to me than my human body can stand and remain functional, is that he has to heal me if he wants me to do anything else. He does usually leave me plenty marked up, but this time, he had to heal me and go, so I'm more whole physically than I've been in ages. I go in search of Jack.

But I learn from Tabby he never made it down to the kitchens. I start to panic internally, but then I remember Lucifer can feel that if he decides to reach out. I do my best at neutral, and think of all the places he might go.

Jack has a lot of hiding spots around the old palace. I check all of them, and still no Jack.

Eventually, I will have to go to Lucifer about this. Most of his staff are loyal to him. If they find out they will tell him, and if Lucifer finds out before I tell him, what Lucifer just did to me will seem like a holiday.

Thankfully, I see the little head of light-brown hair, barrelling toward me. He's scared and he's crying, and his cheek is bleeding. He catapults himself to me and buries his face in my robes. "C'mon, let's get you fixed up."

I bring him to his bedroom, which he doesn't spend a whole lot of time in, but it's got a washroom attached, and some stuff I can fix him up with there. "Jack, what happened?"

"I went to meet with my friend, the one who's going to help me save you, and then, and then… and then…"

"Take deep breaths, Jack. You're okay. You're safe." As safe as one can be this close to Lucifer. "Did your friend hurt you?"

"No, he would never," he says getting angry. "He's my friend, and now… I think he's in trouble too."

He's distraught about this, and I'm starting to wonder if his imaginary friend isn't imaginary. "Where were you Jack?" A thought hits me. "Did you go outside?"

He starts biting his lip. That's a rule. He's not allowed outside. If Lucifer catches him… "Sort of."

"Yes or no, Jack?"

"Yes, but I was trying to save you!"

"You disobeyed me Jack." Fuck, because who wants to punish a kid with a cut lip? Who wants to punish a kid like Jack at all?

"I know, I'm sorry."

"That's a big rule from your father. Do you know what he'll do to you if you get caught?"

"Something horrible."

I nod. _Fuck._ His face, his eyes, his broken little heart. "I have to punish you for this, Jack."

"I know. It's okay, Sammy. Don't feel bad."

And of course he comforts me – I feel even worse. Once his cheek's patched up, I set him down from the counter, grabbing his hand. "C'mon, we'll get this over with, then we'll eat then we'll go to sleep. I'm ready for this day to be done, how about you?"

He nods.

"And then I have good news for you."

He perks up.

"We get to go outside tomorrow. Your father already arranged it. Didn't I say I'd make it happen?"

His smile is bright. "Really?"

"Really."

"Do you think we could get Tabby to make us a picnic like we did that one time?"

"I'm certain of it."

He continues to babble on about all we'll do tomorrow, and it absolves whatever scared him so badly. I'll talk more about it with him in the morning, but for now, he needs to focus on something else.


	4. Cas's Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see the chapter count went up for this story. Originally, I was going to make myself stick to the plot, but there are so many things I want to explore, so well, I'm gonna explore. Sorry. I tried. LOL
> 
> Next, I'm going over to Color of Hope if you're following that. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this as much as I am writing it.

DEAN

"Get your filthy, feathery hands _off_ me." I want them to let me go, but it's more than that. I'm not used to other hands on me anymore. No one but Cas touches me. They're making my skin crawl.

"Dean! Hello, and welcome." The archangel Gabriel is standing over me in heavy tan robes. He's way too fucking jubilant for an apocalypse, his curly hair bouncing all over the damn place.

But there is only one angel I bow to. "What the actual _fuck_ Gabriel?"

He ignores me. "Get up off the floor, and for the love of Father, put some pants on Dean-o."

I refuse his hand when he offers it to me, used to doing that. I do get off the ground, so I can glare at him properly. First thing I do though, is check for the amulet – still there. "What's the deal Gabriel? Do you realize what you've done?" Cas might not _miss_ me, but he still _owns_ me. I'm his _property_ , and Cas doesn't like his shit getting stolen. Especially not his mate. Angels go kind of ballistic when you take their mates.

He continues to ignore me. "Come. You must be famished. We'll get you some food, _clothes_ ," he says with distaste, "and a warm bed."

Oh c'mon. We all know I'm nice to look at. I roll my eyes.

"Manners, Dean. I am still an angel, even if your angel boyfriend might well kill me. You will be respectful while you're here."

"At least you finally admit Castiel is going to kill you," I mutter, though I do have to think about that one. Will Cas care if I'm misbehaved under the circumstances? If he'd left me here, he would expect me to be the poster-child of obedience, but I was abducted, and he's going to _eventually_ arrive and destroy this place, so does it count? I air on the side of caution taking some of the obstinance out of my demeanour and bring my eyes down just a bit.

"Better. Go eat, get dressed, then we'll talk." He disappears, flying like a normal angel should, and I can't yell at him anymore even if I wanted to.

A tiny human girl is by my side in an instant, holding out my pack to me. I take it, and sling it over my shoulder, really fucking perturbed. Not to mention, the agitation of being this far away from Cas is starting. With him so far away, I can't even get a good read on which direction he might be in. I'd have to leave the Community to do that, start walking different ways, see the feeling I get, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out I'm not just gonna be able to stroll out of here.

"I'm Claire. You're, Dean?"

"Yeah." I'm gruff and kind of an asshole, not in a good mood.

"I'm sorry about, everything," she says, moving to put a hand on my back. I get out of the way.

"No touching," I tell her. Cas might have a small amount of leniency for Angel Mates like Jo, but Claire is clearly _all_ human. Angels have little mercy for humans. Also, some weird shit happens when Cas is away. I get this odd drive to follow his rules to an extreme that makes me tense and angry. Following the rules keeps the loose hold on my ability to remain calm. In fact, it's starting to bear down on me with a crushing weight.

"Um, sorry," she says.

"No look, I'm sorry. Is there a prayer something or other around?" It's getting a bit hard to breathe.

She nods, happy to help. "There is. You want to go there first?"

"Please."

She brings me to a full church. Of course Gabriel has a church. I've been here before, I knew that, I'm going a bit crazy.

"I've been instructed to take you to the baths, get you dressed, and food. It okay if I wait outside while you do this?"

I know she's only asking to be polite. She's not going to disobey a direction from an angel, especially if that angel was Gabriel, and there are a lot of angels here. I nod, and head inside.

I kneel at one of the pews. It's got soft cushions for knees – only the best in Gabriel's Community – and start my prayer. "Dear Father, please keep your son Castiel safe, so that we may be reunited. If I suffer while he's away, may it be suffering in his name, so that it should please him." It's a thing Cas told me would help, and help it does. I'm already relaxing some. I can breathe again. I rack my brain for any 'sin' I can think of. "Please forgive my rudeness to your son Gabriel. Please forgive my bratty behaviour, and disrespectful tone to your most loyal son Castiel, and help me to do better in the future. Thank you for forgiving this sin, and your mercy. Amen."

The relief when I stand is worth it. I grab my pack and look around. There are at least thirty people in here I didn't even notice before, and they're all looking at me while pretending not to. I wonder what kind of a maniac I looked like when I came in here? I do weird little bow thing (totally unnecessary) and leave, joining back up with Claire.

"Better?" she says.

"Much. Sorry."

"It's okay. I have no idea what it's like, the feeling of being away from your mate," she says, as we start walking. "What's it like?"

She's a brave thing, this Claire, asking questions like that. "Annoying as fuck," I tell her.

She laughs. "Does it, hurt?"

"Not exactly. It's unpleasant, and kinda awful, but it's not painful, like getting a spanking or something." Speaking of, my ass is still royally throbbing. Cas's punishments tend to last. Now that I can draw attention to it, since I'm no longer having a panic attack, it brings me comfort in a similar way to how the prayer did.

She blushes at the word spanking, and giggles. "Do you get lots of spankings, Dean?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "Enough questions. Where are the bathing places? I want private by the way." If Gabriel's going to abduct me and be a fucking dick, he can _hospitably_ offer me a private bath. I know he's got luxury ones here.

"Don't worry. I've been instructed to show you to the private baths. You are an honoured guest, and angel mate."

"Guests can leave," I point out.

She ignores me, smiling, entertained by my surliness.

I have to admit, after the long days of gruelling travel, the dirt, the cold, the hard surfaces for sleeping, being in an elegant bath with _hot_ water is nice, and I enjoy the fuck out of it. I don't enjoy when I'm presented with a set of green robes. "To match your eyes, Gabriel said," Claire tells me with amusement playing in hers.

I snatch them from her and head off to change. "I look like a freaking wizard," I say when I reappear.

She laughs.

"Can't I just wear my own clothes?"

"They are being washed. And we'll give you some fresh things more suited to your tastes."

I noticed that, to my dismay. The few things I had in my pack for clothes were gone when I checked. Cas and I had been on the lookout for more clothes and other things for me. We were headed North, and while we hadn't reached the icy cold yet, it was beginning to get too cold for the jacket I had. I needed warmer stuff. Here, it's nice though. Hot. I could live in Gabriel's Community if Cas would let us. It's comfortable here in a multitude of ways.

"Thank you," I say, because that is nice. Cas uses his grace when he can, to clean me up, and I bathe in cold lake, and river water when available, but none of that seems to be able to achieve the _feel_ of a bath and fresh-washed clothes. I guess I can put up with robes for a little while. If only Sammy could see me now. He'd be making so much fun.

But nothing can prepare me for the food they've made just for me. Cheeseburgers and pie. And it's totally a ploy. This is so when Cas arrives, maybe I'll sweet talk Cas into not killing them all. If I tell him what good care they took of me, perhaps he'll be less murderous. But they know shit. I have no such powers. I have not been able to sweet talk Cas into, or out of anything. I would be punished for trying.

The food confirms a suspicion I had. I'm Cas-bait.

Not that I've ever experienced harm when Cas and I have come here, we're always treated well in Gabriel's Community, but this is beyond well.

Fuck it though. I'm enjoying the cheeseburgers and pie. I make sure to say a prayer, then I wolf down seven cheeseburgers and eat a whole pies worth of various kinds of pie.

It's sometime during the pie, Gabriel shows his annoying face. "Like the cheeseburgers, Dean?"

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Cut the crap Gabriel. I know I'm Castiel-bait. What I can't figure out is why you'd do it this way? There are far less suicidal ways of getting his attention. He's going to burn this place to the ground."

"I'm sure he'll want to, but if Lucifer couldn't, I doubt he could."

"Lucifer?" Okay, he has my fucking attention.

Gabriel nods, and something I've never seen seeps into his eyes. Fear. "They tried to take us, nearly did. We lost many. We need Castiel's help, but he refused and took off. You were around, so my crew improvised. Desperate times and all."

"It's still a stupid plan. You're better off taking me to him. We were a few months _North_ of here. It's going to take him at least half of that to get here on foot." Even at the punishing pace Cas walks, he's walking slower for me. He can go a lot faster without me.

"He won't last three days without you," Gabriel says checking his nails.

"Joke's on you. He has, and he will."

"Sure. Maybe before, and when he's made himself. He's likely going crazy about now."

"Are you deliberately ignoring me? Even if that's true, you'll still be waiting. All the walking – Cas _only_ walks." For whatever reason, I still don't know, and woe be tide you if you bring it up.

"He'll fly."

"He doesn't fly anywhere!" He's making me crazy.

"Tone. _Careful._ He will fly. In the meantime the rules are as follows. You are free to roam the grounds, wherever you like, but you are to be in your room by curfew, like everyone else. You are entitled to one bath or shower per day, and as our honoured guest, you will receive all the food tokens you like. You are to show proper respect to angels, and others, or you will be punished. You may _not_ leave. Understood?"

I don't bother getting lippy with him, and pointing out that honoured guests can leave, like I did Claire. I also don't complain about the punishment thing either. He'd normally need Cas's permission for that in my case, but I'm pretty sure he gives no fucks. This whole thing he's doing is balls-y.

I am going to have a chat with Cas about him giving me my angel blade back after this.

"So please, enjoy. I'll have Claire show you to your rooms."

~**~

Since I'm here, and somewhat free (yeah my body and my brain want Cas, but there's still a bit of me that enjoys a little freedom) I enjoy myself. I let go a little. So much shit weighs on me constantly; I decide to take a little holiday. I only last a day though before the guilt sets in, and on the next day I begin devising how I'm going to get the hell out of here.

This place is loaded to the balls with angels and magic, though. Not impossible, but it will take time.

It's not lost upon me that Lucifer _wants_ this place. Maybe it's not such a bad place to hang out. Maybe we just wait here in luxury, until Lucifer shows his ugly face. Maybe he'll have Sammy with him – we could just kill Lucifer, take Sammy, and be done with it.

It's a lot of maybes. And dammit, there's a stupid flip side.

While it works real nice for me, and Cas, it doesn't for Gabriel's people. That would put them all in grave danger. Okay damn. Nice thought, but no. However, I'm guessing the chances Lucifer coming here are high. If only we could figure out which direction he's coming from, we could head toward him.

It's as I'm pondering all this, I feel it. But I fucking question it, because it can't fucking be. Like a little lemming, I follow until _it_ gets stronger, and stronger. I end up in Gabriel's 'business' room, which looks more like a room a King would sit and make decisions in and deal with subjects. There are two angels standing watch; I point at the door. "I'm pretty sure I can go in there, yeah?"

They both raise their eyebrows. "You can, but I don't know if you want to."

Fuck, they're fighting in there, aren't they? "No, I don't want to, but I'm going in anyway." They get out of my way, and _it's your funeral_ is clear about them.

Inside, is Cas more pissed off than I've ever seen him, and that's saying a lot. His wings are out. I've never seen his wings quite like this. Cas _only_ flies for dire emergencies, and even when he's had to, he doesn't leave his wings out like this. He's menacing, and his eyes are grace-blue, the whole room crackling with his power.

He's got Gabriel's neck in a vice grip. The archangel must be surprised at his strength. Cas has mated with several humans over his millennia, each making him stronger, but according to Cas, his powers increased several fold after our mating. All the rest of the creatures in the room are dead. Black streaks are everywhere from things having been burned, smoke, and blood, a whole lot of blood.

"Look, Cas. Dean, Dean's right there," Gabriel says pointing frantically.

 _Fuck you Gabriel._ I don't want _that_ turned on me right now. Who knows what's it's thinking?

Cas doesn't let go Gabriel's neck, but he does turn toward me. Fuck, he's scary. My heart's beating so bad. I'm not sure what to do, so I operate on instinct, and get down into the most submissive position I can muster. I push feelings of a submissive nature toward him, and of lust, trying to attract him to me in one way, the other, or hell, both. No I don't know why I'm bothering to save Gabriel's ass exactly, but of all the angels, he's the least asshole of them, even if he's annoying as fucking hell.

The energy in the room begins to calm, and Cas drops Gabriel. Gabriel wisely remains on the ground where he's been unloaded. Like any other predator, any movement will unleash those instincts in Cas, and he could end Gabriel on sight.

But now I've got the full force of Cas turned on me, and I quake. I can't help it, I fucking quake. He approaches and I don't know what the fuck to do, so I wait. When he grabs me up by my robes, I cry out. He tosses me over a chair, and flips my robes up. I'm totally commando, because apparently they don't believe in underwear around here, and without prep, or warning, Cas is inside me. Thank fuck for my new, self-lubing abilities, but that's not going to happen unless I get turned on.

It hurts, but that's the point. He needs submission, whatever should please him. He wants; I do. That's how this bargain works. I do what I can, hoping he'll calm the fuck down. I breathe as he thrusts, even if it's jagged breathing, and I force myself to spread wide for him, even though I want nothing more than to close my fucking legs.

I work on relaxing my body, and taking it, trying to enjoy, so the lubricant with come.

It gets easier, as my entrance adjusts to his size, and my body finally produces some of the lubricant. I start panting in a more pleasurable way, versus the grunts one makes while being impaled by a baseball bat. I keen back, and meet his thrusts. My cock starts leaking, as I moan, and beg. Now that my fear is receding, the craving of him is able to bloom. And God, I want him, I need him.

All the ache from being apart is being soothed, thrust by thrust, working into every crevice of my body.

By the time Cas does release into me, I'm a pliant, soft thing. He spins me to him, and he's still got his wings out, but his eyes aren't burning with grace anymore. He grabs hold of one of my thick, muscled legs, holding my robes out of the way, and hitches me upward, so I can grab around his waist, crossing my ankles behind him. We kiss, our tongues finding the other's, and when we finally pull apart, he staring at me like he's never seen me before.

And no, I haven't come, but it's like another bit of _owning_. While I'm built up to an orgasm like this, on the edge, it's still his. I'll mind and whine about it later, but for now it brings me satisfaction. "Dean," he says waking up from whatever he was gripped by. His wings slowly recede and disappear to wherever they go.

"Cas." I smile. I feel so much better. Cas has become my home. No matter how many amenities this place has, they don't beat Cas. "I like you more than cheeseburgers, Cas," I say. I must still be sub-drunk. I curl my head down on his shoulder. I'm done.

"Oh no you don't, I need you awake." But he let's me stay like that for now, striding over to Gabriel. Cas hits me up with some grace, and I pop back to full consciousness. He sets me down, and signals for me to kneel at his feet, which is kinda fucking bullshit – I want to yell at Gabriel too – but I get it. That wouldn't be appropriate, and it must also mean he's hoping he can find a way to not kill Gabriel. I'm only likely to do and say things that won't help. I kneel, but I'm still spent enough, I have to lean against Cas's leg.

"Explain, Gabriel," Cas says running a hand through my hair, having to touch me more. Fuck, his grace did little more than wake me up, I'm still all drunk on our little re-claiming ritual. I'm almost purring.

"I need your help, Castiel," Gabriel says seriously. He goes on to explain what he did to me about Lucifer, and the attack.

"Not only is this not my concern, this is not the way you ask me… by taking my mate? I should kill you."

"We did try to ask you. You said no."

"You sent angels firing their powers at me, separating me from my mate, and then had them bring the idea up. That is not asking. It's a free pass to murder you."

"Aww, Cassy. C'mon. You know as well as I do how unreasonable you are."

Gabriel thinks that's going to win him points with Cas? Man, he does not know Cas.

"I am here to retrieve my mate. That is all. Me leaving you, and your Community in peace instead of pieces, is all you're going to get from me."

It really is a good deal, and if I weren't going through this whole bond-re-settling thing, I'd tell him so, um, if Cas let me that is.

They stare at each other a long while, until Gabriel breaks. "Castiel, I need you. I went about this wrong, you're right, but we're desperate."

"There is nothing I can do for you, I'm afraid. I am on a mission for Father. That must override all else."

He nods and sighs. "I understand. At least stay the night. Rest up."

He shakes his head. "Dean, go grab your things. We're leaving, immediately."

I almost groan. I _would_ actually groan, but he's like, fucked obedience into me, or something. I'd love a last cheeseburger at least, before we're walking and walking again.

I race off to grab my stuff, and _change_. Claire is there. "Will this stuff fit in your pack?"

She's got a few sets of clean clothes, long underwear, and a small bag of something else. "I can make room." I catch a whiff of the bag as she hands it to me. "Cheeseburgers?"

"Yep. And pie." She winks. She fucking likes me.

"Thanks, dudette." I would kiss her cheek, if Cas wouldn't kill her.

I follow where I can feel Cas, he's already at the front of the Community, leaned up against the gates, waiting for me. Gabriel is there, probably trying to come up with one last plea to get Cas to help. "Where's your collar?" Cas says in a tone you don't argue with.

I ball my fists, but I retrieve it from my pack, and hold it out to him. He secures it around me, all business-like. It closes with its usual hum. If I have to wear this thing twenty-four-seven now because of Gabriel, I'll come back to kill him myself.

Gabriel moves to say something, but Cas holds his hand up. "Do this ever again, Gabriel, and you won't be so lucky next time."

He backs off from Cas, realizing it's done. "Well you two are always welcome here, anyway. Hopefully we'll see you again."

Cas doesn't answer, using his grace to open the gates himself (there's enough grace buzzing through this Community, it's too hard to trace it back to him). He walks, and I follow, just like always. I do turn and give a little wave, one I hope Cas doesn't see. And we're gone.

~**~

Once the bond has settled again, and the haze has worn off, I see just how angry Cas still is. And I feel sorry for myself. Gabriel created this problem, but now I have to fucking deal with it.

I only end up being annoyed about that for a second though, because I remember something.

_Cas flew._

Didn't even wait the three days Gabriel said it would take him. He came pretty much right away. _For me._

I can't help it. That makes me fucking happy. Cas can tell.

"What are you happy about?" he asks without looking at me.

We are south now, and it's hot. I've got my flannel tied around my waist, and have on the white tank Claire gave me.

"You came and got me," I say.

"Of course I did. You're my mate. _Mine._ You belong with me."

"We all know you didn't have to _retrieve_ me that quickly Cas."

He turns around angry (but what else is new?) and gives me the look that says I'm treading a thin line. I _feel_ I'm treading a thin line. I throw my hands up in surrender. "I was a good boy the whole time, did my prayers and everything." It's all I got.

He turns around and we walk some more.

When we get to a place he feels is far enough away, we stop and he tells me to eat, and pee, and whatever else my paltry human form requires. He's starting to piss me off a little. He's barely talked to me – not that he does much anyway, but I was _taken_ – and we've been apart for longer than we have in awhile. You'd think that would spark some kinda, something, but it doesn't. He's just an angry, asshole, angel who doesn't care about me, or anyone, but his stupid mission. He probably only came to get me so fast, because he needed me for something.

I pull out one of the cheeseburgers Claire gave me. "What do you have there? Did you steal food?"

"We always steal food, Cas."

"Only when necessary."

"Well I didn't steal. This was _given_ to me." Seriously fuck him. "Thank you Father for this bountiful meal," I say before taking a large bite staring at Cas all the while. Yes I'm being defiant. Yes it's stupid, especially when Cas is this rage-filled, but I want his attention any way I can have it.

"How many more cheeseburgers are in that bag, Dean?"

It's only taken me just over twenty-four hours to forget how instantly Cas can make me regret my behaviour. I remember now. "Why?"

"Who's collar are you wearing?"

The way he says that is chilling. "Y-Yours, sir."

"Glad to hear you remember. I asked you a question, you know I don't ask twice."

My lip fucking wobbles. "There are two left."

"Give them to me."

"No!" Cas really doesn't like, no. "I mean, _please_ don't take them."

He waits. And I know the longer he waits, the longer he spends coming up with terrible things to do to me. I pull them out of my bag and hand them over. He doesn't seem interested in the one I'm eating at least. I slow down, enjoying it, if it's to be my last one.

He puts them away, into what I call his _magical heaven pocket._ He stores more stuff there than should fit in a small pocket. I'm pretty sure it's where he keeps my angel blade.

"Those have a shelf-life, Cas."

"Not where I put them they don't."

I'm glad they're not gone, but I'm still pouting because they were mine, and he's mean taking them. When I'm done, I sit in silence waiting, _so_ done with him. He watches me the whole time, like he's cataloguing everything about me, which is weird because he has a perfect memory. "Do you wish you were back at Gabriel's Community?" he asks after a long time staring.

"It was nice Cas, but I was stupid enough to actually just want to be with you, even though being on the road sucks, and the walking is exhausting, and the food's even worse than all that." I leave out the part about how awful he is. He's probably gonna beat my ass for complaining and being so ungrateful, but I don't care right now.

"Well it doesn't matter, because you're not going back. You stay with me."

He's acting weird. "I know, Castiel."

That does it. He's on me and we're tumbling in the grass, his mouth is on mine, and my dick, well it doesn't take much to convince, it's at attention just like any good soldier would be. I rut into Cas, and I think we're about to have some kind of wild sex, but he grabs my arms holding them over my head, crossed at the wrists. He rolls us so he's on top, and plants his knee between my legs, so I have to stop. We freeze like that and he stares and stares at me again. "What have you done to me?"

"Sir?" As usual, I air on the side of caution. Is this a calm before a storm sort of thing? Or is he truly confused about something?

He nuzzles his face into me, and breathes in my scent. That's right, fucking breathes in my scent. It seems to relax him, like he's finally starting to believe I'm right here in front of him.

"I swear to fucking… Pete…" we don't swear to God, "I didn't do anything to you."

"You have, Dean. You've given me humanity."

"What?"

"I… you're right. I could have, _should_ have left you there. I should have done what I needed to do, and then retrieved you when it was more convenient. I tried. I set off where we were headed – I knew you'd be safe with Gabriel – but then I, _missed_ you. Everything," he says like it hurts. "Your voice, you talking nonsense, your laugh, your terrible singing. I'd turn to look at you and you wouldn't be there."

I have to be careful. He's not bound to like _any_ of this all that much. I want to jump for joy, because he _missed_ me. The angel who claimed missing was a wasted emotion, fucking missed me. "Cas? I fucking missed the hell out of you."

"I was only gone for a day," he says. But he puts his head on my chest, where my heart is, still managing a secure hold on my wrists, like he needs this new sensation to be controlled, and holding my wrists is the way to do it.

"T'was a long day."

"All you did was eat cheeseburgers and goof off. You didn't even try to escape." Feeling a bit more confident, he lets go my wrists. I put a hand to his hair.

"It was _cheeseburgers_ Cas, and I was tired."

"You said you liked me more than cheeseburgers."

I chuckle. "I did say that. Are you jealous of cheeseburgers, Cas?" I get a glare for my troubles. He puts his head back down. "Besides, that place was crawling with angels. I needed time to recharge and figure shit out. Now, if someone would give me my angel blade back..."

"What did I say would happen to you the next time you asked about that?"

"But Cas, you _missed_ me. Don't I get a pass, or something?"

"Never. What did I say?"

Ugh. "That orgasms would be a thing of the past for a long time," I say like a sulky fuck. Cas will make it a _really_ long time.

"I'm glad you remember. I hope that was worth it. Be sure to include this transgression in your prayers tonight."

"Yes, sir." Arguing will only make it certain I won't come again for the next three hundred years. And he'll enjoy it too much. _Fucking sadist._

He doesn't get up though. He lays on me, no intentions of moving. "Uh, Cas? We leaving soon?"

"Soon." More silence and me running a hand through his hair and then, "Dean? What do humans do about missing? Is it possible to miss someone who's right underneath you?"

It's almost cute the way he's asking honest questions about human emotions. "Typically, humans are told to not think about the person they miss, to do other stuff, distract themselves, forget."

"That's the most ridiculous tripe I've ever heard. It completely negates the missing."

I laugh. "I think so too. I think most people don't know how to handle missing, or how to enjoy it. You know what I do? I miss them. I miss the ever-loving fuck out of them, _and_ do my life at the same time. It can feel good, if you're grateful to have something, or someone to miss, and enjoy the feeling, even if it makes you sad, even angry at times. I also think you can miss people anytime you want."

"Sometimes you're the most incorrigible brat, one I really do want to strangle, and then you say things like that, and it makes me wonder if your brat act is a hoax."

"Oh no. I'm a fucking brat, Cas. A brat you _missed._ "

"You really don't want to come for a long time, do you?"

Fuck. Yeah, I'm pushing it, but I can't help it – Cas missed me! "Shutting up, sir."

"Good. Be quiet for five seconds, and let me miss you properly."

So he's the expert now? I don't say it though. I've mouthed off enough for one day. Instead I join him, and miss him too.


	5. Angel Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is cleaning day at Ye 'ol House of Mock. That is what I will be doing, but first I give you another chapter. Be warned. This one is a doozey. Usually, I edit out some of the stuff that happens in my head with any given a story since my head is a very strange place. I didn't edit strange bits out at all. I hope you still like it! 
> 
> I'm going to work on a chapter for The Marriage of Dean Winchester. I think it's time for that story to get kinky. 
> 
> After that I will head back to the Winchesters for a chapter, and then finally head over to For You. 
> 
> Got mixed reviews on Color of Hope. Those who commented loved the chapter and were happy with more, but the chapter got the least amount of comments it's got in a long while. I don't know if that means ppl are good with it ending, or upset with the direction I'd take it, or... something else? In any case, I'm going to write a bit more for it. I want to write more Baby!Dean and write a bit more about those characters. Haven't decided on the HOW yet, but more will come. 
> 
> All right! Enjoy :)

SAM

"No, Lucifer… no!"

"Need help today, beautiful?"

"Lucifer, _please_. I'm sorry."

But he's already snapped his fingers, and he's already got two demons holding me on either side. He's also got the nasty bullwhip, I hate. I've never been able to take it with grace, or _not_ beg him not to. It leaves long, nasty, gashes, that heal like shit. "Maybe one hundred of these will put you in a more obedient mood."

I can't hold still, and I fight the demons holding me as Lucifer mets out the punishment. Thankfully, Jack ran off somewhere – not that it will stop him hearing me across the camp; my screams are terrible. It feels like it goes on for an eternity.

When he's done, I can't move. I'm thrown onto the ground. "You stay here Sam."

I don't know if he means just to stay in the tent, or in this spot, so I stay exactly where I'm left, sobbing. The pain won't go away. I only finally stop shaking, hours later, for him to return, and my body to respond by shaking again. "What are you still doing on the floor?"

Lucifer helps lift me onto the bed, admiring his handy work. "These look gorgeous on you. Do they hurt?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Why so formal? You know I love when you call me Luci."

"Luci," I say. I'll say anything if it will keep him from hurting me.

"You don't want them, or me. Isn't that right, Sam? You'd like it if I just healed them away, so you don't have to suffer anymore?" He's questioning my sincerity.

I'm still confused as to what brought on this much rage, or what I can do to make it better. "No. I want them," I say weakly. _But you beat me with a fucking bull whip._ "Please let me keep them."

"Why should I? Why should I give you anything? You disrespect me Sam. I am disappointed."

The place inside me, the one we created when we bonded, recoils at his tone and his words. There is nothing worse than his disappointment. "H-how can I make it up to you, Luci?" I say, shivering. It's cold. I'm so cold.

"I think you can be the camp whore for today. They will be pleased. Do a good job, and all will be forgiven."

I nod. "Yes, Luci," I whisper. I do want to make it up to him, I don't want to do that.

"I'll even allow you to see Jack before I send you off, see how nice I am?"

"Thank you, Luci." I'm not keen on Jack seeing me like this, but my need to make sure he's okay overrides that. "May I have my robes?"

"Whores don't need robes."

While he leaves to retrieve Jack, I fix myself up best I can. The welts still throb, making my whole body ache and I'm exhausted with the pain, but I'm able to maintain coherence. I wipe my face on the bed sheets, and arrange the blankets just enough my junk is covered, trying to make it look like it coincidently happened with movement versus me moving it there, in case Lucifer has a problem with that.

Lucifer pushes Jack into the tent roughly. His eyes are red, showing he's been crying a long time. His hair is a mess, and his face dirty. As he get closer, I can see where his cut from last week has healed over, but now he's got a nasty gash from Lucifer's ring, and bruising dusting up his left eye. He looks so scared.

Lucifer leaves, and Jack runs to me, unafraid of how terrible I must look, only concerned. "Sammy!" he says and dives on the bed, into my arms crying.

"Hey now, hey, hey, I'm all right. You know I can take a little beating. Are you okay?"

"It hurts some, but I'm all right."

I nod and kiss his crown, and give him quiet comfort.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to, I didn't, I didn't mean to spill it…"

"It's okay, I know you didn't. You didn't do anything. You know your father has a temper," I tell him quietly, hoping Lucifer isn't listening in on us. I know he could be, but I say what little I can. Jack is good at analysing and processing, perhaps sometimes like a little boy, but also like he's a hundred years old.

He tightens his jaw, and nods, soaking up the love.

This time he really didn't do anything. Not that he ever does. Most of his 'transgressions' are regular little boy curiosities that rarely reach worthy of scolding, if we're talking _Before_ times, but Lucifer flies off the handle at any little thing. I don't know why I keep trying to figure it out. There's no sense in the irrational, yet my brain won't stop trying to unlock the puzzle of him.

This time it was literal spilt milk. Jack spilled it, on Lucifer, and he went crazy. I got involved, and of course others were there. Apparently, had I been obedient enough, I would have seen Lucifer had right to punish his son as he saw fit. But when he cuffed him hard across the face, I couldn't sit still.

"Will you do something for me, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to be busy today." He whines a little, but doesn't protest. "I should be back by tonight, stay out of sight, okay? You're good at that." I feel fairly confident Lucifer won't want to look at Jack. He does have an odd sort of regret about the things he does to his son, but he won't admit to that by healing his face. If he did that, others would question his resolve. Allowing me to comfort Jack is the most he'll get. "Don't you have a project you're working on?"

"Yes," he says smiling.

"Have you heard from your friend?" Jack's got an imaginary friend, so real, even I sometimes question whether he's imaginary, or not. But children like Jack need these things, especially when they have no real friends. Better I talk with him about it, and keep him from getting into trouble with said friend.

"No," he says.

"Tell me, what do you like about your friend?"

Jack smiles. "He's good. I can tell he's a good person."

I see. Jack's creating his version of a hero-type.

"He's got a dead mother, like me."

 _And_ a friend who's like him. "Sounds like you've got stuff in common."

"Hey, do you think I should see if he wants to play, while you're busy?"

"So long as you remember the rules. What are they?"

"Don't leave the camp. Obey Father. Don't touch anything I'm not supposed to."

"Good boy. I'm going to rest my eyes now until it's time for me to go." I'm exhausted. "You can stay with me if you like, but I want you to go have fun outside."

"I'll stay 'till you're asleep, Sammy." He's firm when he says that, like it's his life's mission to keep watch over me.

"Okay."

He snuggles in, and I don't remember falling asleep.

~DEAN~

It's hot. We've been walking too long. I trip, I fall, I land on my face. Do I get an apology for pushing me beyond my limit? No, of course not. He's annoyed. "Really, Dean? You've walked further distances than this."

"Not in this kind of heat, Cas." Now, if only I had my car, I don't say.

He stands above me, disgusted. "All right, I suppose we have no choice but to rest. We can't do it here. This is a dangerous place." He looks like he's doing a puzzle.

While he does that, I try to stand, but I'm wobbly. I just don't have the juice. We get me as much food and water as we can – I ate and drank not too long ago – and I could always use more of that, but what I really need is rest. Cas doesn't give me much rest, pushing me ever harder, so we can check shit off on the list in his head he seldom tells me about. I pull water out of my pack, and drink while I wait.

"I think it's too dangerous for a grace use, I'm going to have to carry you."

"What? No way in hell, Cas." His eyes go dark as the night sky. Fuck. I know that look. He's also, so done with me being lippy. I'm too fucking lippy. I know it. And with all the talk of Cas saying he missed me, and him saying he's got some humanity in him – just bolstered me into stupid bravery, some might call recklessness. Let me tell you, it's one fucking small shred of humanity.

"Give me your hand."

"Cas, please. I'm sorry. Okay, here carry me."

"Your hand Dean, _now._ "

A long while ago, Cas made it clear I was not to take the Lord's name in vain. Such blasphemy is always inappropriate in the Land of Cas. But I'd been taking the Lord's name in vain my whole life. Not to mention, when I'd met Cas, I was in my fucking twenties. I was such a shit in my fucking twenties. He of course came up with a little cure for my language. Soap? Oh no. I wish – too nice.

Instead, he takes fingernails off. One for every transgression. It began with the whole blasphemy thing, but he’s taken to doing it if he decides I’m too lippy.

It hurts like nothing else, and even though I've had worse pain-wise, it's still worse in that it fucks with your mind somehow; and like a paper cut, it's the most irritating injury to have.

Fuck. I also know, if he has to ask me again, it will be more than one. Oh god, shaking, I can't stop my hand shaking, as I give it to him. He doesn't do this often for back talk, it's mostly for the blasphemy thing, which I have become very careful about saying out loud. Cas doesn't seem to mind the odd, 'oh God' during sex, but God dammit is a phrase not worth saying anymore.

He pulls out a set of terrible tweezers out of another one of his pockets. "Hold still."

"I'm trying, sir." I really am, but my heart is pounding, and the anticipation of it all is maddening.

Cas places the edge of the tweezers just under my nail, on the pointer finger of my left hand. I breathe carefully, and all fucking jagged. I have to close my eyes.

In one fluid motion, he rips it, and _fuck_ it hurts. I scream, but I make sure to fucking thank him and apologize. "Than-Th-Thank you. I'm, s-sor'y. Sorry, Cas." There's blood and skin hanging and it's just gross. "May I bandage it, sir?"

"You may. _Quickly,_ and then we are leaving, and no more out of you. You seem to have forgotten, this is not a democracy."

"Thanks, Cas." I'm fast, because with the air touching it, it seems to hurt more. All cushy in gauze, it still throbs, but it's a little easier to handle both physically and mentally.

Still not liking it, I let him lift me over his shoulder. I feel stupid being carried like this, but I really am beat, and with the adrenaline waning from that fun little nail art activity, I can barely keep my eyes open. He can't walk as fast, carrying me, but it's still a better pace than any human, it's just slower than our usual.

We gain another few miles, Cas walking with me slung over his shoulder for what feels like hours. I don't complain, or ask to put set down, but I want to. Eventually, we reach what was once a town. It doesn't look like there's anyone here, but that doesn’t mean there isn't. He sets me down, and appraises me. "Cas, are you still miffed at me?"

It's amazing how long the guy can hold a grudge. "You don't behave. Why can't you just behave, and obey me, without driving me to discipline you, so often?"

I don't have an answer for him. I'm wilful and a brat. Not exactly the most submissive combo. I sense he feels, regretful. "Sorry, Cas. You know, you could ease up," I try. I already know what he's going to say.

"No." His eyes burn in a way that tells me just how flexible he is on that topic. He expects me to bend. Angels don't bend.

"Well then, if it's any consolation, I'm fine." I hold my hand up, the one with the bandaged finger. "See? Stopped bleeding and everything." Yes I realize I'm consoling the psychopath who went way over the line with me, but I dunno, it only bothers me sometimes. Not now. There's likely something seriously wrong with me, but I like the thrill of how dangerous Cas is too much to give it up. I mean, I often regret what I do to push him to those points in the moment, but then before I know it, I'm chasing a new adrenaline high.

He takes it in both his hands, tenderly. "And?"

"I will behave myself… for at least today."

His scowl is legendary.

"Father says, thou shall not lie."

"That is not one of the Ten Commandments."

"Isn't it?" I say, but I know it's not, he knows I know it's not. Cas drilled those into me long ago, even though apparently, most of those didn't even come directly from Father, and the ones that did have been widely misinterpreted over the centuries, in the same fashion as the telephone game. He felt it important I know the history, and so I learned them.

For once, he recognizes the mischievous glint in my eyes. He kisses my hurt finger. "Behave yourself."

I smile at him. "Yes, sir."

He leads us to what once was a warehouse. It's in decent shape for an apocalypse, but it's badly run down. I do wonder what the hell we're doing here, where there's a perfectly good-looking motel not far from here. Maybe Cas is thinking supplies? but there doesn't look to be much here worth taking. And fuck do I need to sleep. Cas carrying me all that way helped, but I'm beat.

In any case, Cas is acting strange, which is always a cause for worry. Despite my exhaustion, I become alert. "Dean, I require your assistance."

Okay. I put my pack down and head over. We're standing in the middle of the warehouse. It's a large, clear space. He reaches into his pocket, the special one where he's still got my cheeseburgers hostage, and pulls out a bottle that is shining and shimmering in a way that is way too much like angel jizz for my liking. "Cas, is that a bottle of your spunk?"

"No," he snaps.

"Then why do they look so similar?"

"Because it's ripe with magic."

"Okay. What is it?"

Without warning, Cas's wings burst open, filling the space in the old warehouse. I can't help but stare in awe, they're beautiful. Glittery, glistening black. And they're enormous. "It's, for lack of a better name, Wing Oil."

"Wing Oil?" He's never asked my assistance with something like this before. It initially sounds like a maintenance thing, but if it were, why now and not from the start? _Shit._ It clicks for me. Sammy is the egghead between us, but these are the kinds of puzzles I solve easier than breathing. "You can't make your own wing oil, Cas?" I tread carefully. He's not likely to be happy about that. I'm sure it's a serious blow to his angel pride. But I'm fucking worried. Is he sick?

"I can make my own wing oil," he says, the annoyance clear. "Just, not quickly enough."

There's more to this, I know it, and I'm also fucking curious, but I don't feel like a beating just now. "How can I help, Cas?"

"Find the spots that look dry, where feathers might be falling out, and apply it. I can bend and shift them as you need. There are plenty of things to climb on to reach spots as well. You don't need much. Pour a small amount on, and stroke it into the area, up and down the feathers."

"You got it, Cas." I get to work. I've never been this close to angel wings before, I can't say what's normal for them or not, but I wager what I'm seeing isn't … great. There are several patchy spots that remind me of when a human as dry skin. There are black, and silver flakes, plus the feathers themselves have bent, and stringy hairs, rather than the smooth, uniform nature of the healthier ones. In other places, the feathers are plain falling out. It's like his wings are sick.

With great care, I work the 'oil' (still think it looks like angel jizz) into the afflicted areas. Like magic, and well I suppose it is magic, because the places I rub oil into instantly heal, as if they weren't breathing, and then suddenly they can. It becomes a fun game for me, and I get really into it, never growing tired of watching how like presto, Cas's tarnished wings heal before my eyes. As promised, Cas bends and twists his wings, as I move around them, helping me get into each area. Pride fills me, as I work, just like when I would work on a car, or sew up a wound. I could do this forever.

There's only one spot the oil can't fix. One lone feather, already dead – I suppose the oil can't bring something back to life that has no spark left – and I pluck it out, staring at it. Even in death, it's still beautiful, silky and dangerous looking. Cas gives his wings a final shake, the black and sliver flakes of angel-wing-dandruff, fall like glitter to the ground, and he returns them to wherever they go. He looks slightly less agitated. "Would you like to keep that?" he says, noticing my fasciation with his feather.

"May I?" I remember my manners for once.

He nods. "It will help you, should we get separated again. There is still magic within it, even though it's lost its spark for life. Plus, it's made of me."

"Thank you." I add it to my pack, and fuck, I'm still brimming with questions. I want to know all about angel wings, and what could possibly make them sick. I do know if this is the first time he's needed my assistance, his wings are getting worse, not better.

He sighs, exasperated. "Very well, ask your questions, and then we need to find a place for you to sleep."

Oh thank the good lord. "How did this happen, Cas? Are you dying? Oh my god, you have angel cancer, don't you? Is this why you don't fly? Does flying make it worse?"

He waits for my tirade to end, and then he speaks. "First, if you ever tell a soul about this, I promise you will live a long time to regret it, but they will not. This includes your brother should we ever find him."

That gives me a terrible shiver. I nod, unable to speak.

"It's a curse," he says. "There are few angel curses, and fewer who know how to cast them. I have many enemies." Why does that not surprise me? "As I said, I still produce my own wing oil, but not fast enough. It takes a long time after use for them to recover, which yes, is why I don't fly often – wing oil isn't easy to come by. Flying is hard on wings, which is normally not a problem. I had hoped our mating would do something about the curse, but it didn't. Over time, my affliction has become worse."

I've never known the angel to have any weakness. I think I prefer Rage Cas to him having any sort of affliction. "Does it affect the rest of you?"

"No. The curse is keyed to specific magic in my wings. Thankfully, with proper care, and minimal usage, I should be okay for another long bout of time, but I do have to be careful."

I feel better knowing it's just his wings. I'm used to walking by now, if someday his wings go, it's not great loss to me.

"I've never sustained this much damage before. It usually a spot here, or there I've been able to attend to on my own. You've done an outstanding job, they feel good as new."

I beam at the praise. "Hey, what are mates for, I say. Cas?"

"Why do I sense I'm not about to like your question? Are you sure you should ask it?"

Probably not, but I'm gonna. I do phrase is as a statement rather than a question, fooling myself into thinking that's safer. "This explains why you can't fly, but not why we can't use other modes of transportation."

"I have no use of human-derived modes of transportation."

"Oh c'mon, Cas. Seriously?" _Fucking, stubborn, ass._

"This is not up for discussion. Question time over." He snatches the wing oil from me, and returns it to his pocket.

He starts walking away, I scoop up my pack and trail after him. "I wasn't even gonna ask. But y'know, humans walk too, Cas, just sayin'."

"They didn't invent it. God did."

My god. And I know I'm heading down a no-win path, but I can't help myself. "Couldn't it be said that God invented the modes of transportation humans use?"

"Perhaps God did some, but humans came up with the _idea_ to use them as such."

He's impossible. "What if I were able to find something no human has ever used? Like a magical creature, with wings?" There's gotta be stuff like that around these days. A ton of shit came to this world, during the _After._

Cas doesn't speak, as we head toward the run down motel, but I know he's thinking about it. "All right, wise guy. Find me something magical, and with wings, and if it doesn't eat you first, you may convince it to be our chariot, _if_ I approve."

I crack a smile. "I'm gonna find a dragon Cas, or better yet, a giant horse with wings. Hey are Hippogriffs actually a thing?"

"Dean. Shut up."

"Inquiring minds need to know, Cas."

My heart races when he suddenly turns on me, with eyes that say I've gone too fucking far, and _I have_ as usual. He yanks me up, and tosses me over his shoulder again, like a sack of potatoes, laying down a hard smack to my ass. "Ow!"

"You're going to go to sleep, so I can have some peace and quiet," he says and keeps walking. "And for the love of Father Dean, do as you're told for once."

Humph. I happen to think I do what I'm told a lot. It's not my fault he's a fucking perfectionist. But I feel for my violent maniac. He's obviously got big feelings about this whole wing thing, which likely has him feeling vulnerable, even if he doesn't know it. He's also shared a whole bunch with me, which he also doesn't prefer to do. That I'm not bleeding in several places is a miracle in and of itself, and speaks to his current restraint, but the day is young.

Cas must really like me.

I shut up, and give him a preview to his peace and quiet. Finally, he unloads me on a dusty old bed, which I hope to Christ doesn't have bed bugs, and I watch him picking up on the shift in his mood. It's not anger, though to the untrained eye, it could be mistaken for anger. Cas is feeling something _for me_ , which on the one hand is good, but angels express their feelings in a much different way than humans.

Humans buy their mates chocolates and flowers. Angels bruise their mates and claw at their skin.

Me being taken from him, has sincerely agitated him, but (according to Cas) we had to keep moving. This is the first chance we've had to really stop, besides the odd break for attending to my human needs, since. Now, he can break from ignoring the baser instincts that have him whirring inside.

"I don't mark you enough," he declares.

"Uh, Cas. What about the collar?" Don't get me started on the collar. I'm too scared to even bring up the possibility of taking it off at this point, but yes I would like it off. If it makes him less murder-y though, I can make do. _for now_

"A collar is _almost_ meaningless without marks to match," he says, coming closer, like he's sneaking up on prey, only I see him, and I know I'm the prey.

My body shudders. This ain't gonna be pretty. "C-Cas? Don't I need to be able to walk?"

"I'll make sure you can walk, sweetheart." Sweetheart isn't quite the endearment it might seem. In fact, it's almost a threat, with a shred of fondness. Which makes no sense, but Cas never promised to make sense.

There's no choice, but to give over to whatever he'll do. These things, this creature-like tendency lives in Cas; it's need and the need will be satisfied. Best I can do is help.

"They took you from me," he says leaning into kiss me.

"I know, Cas."

"You're _mine_."

"All yours." It doesn't matter _why_ they took me, only that they did.

Cas's kisses get more intense, and that's good. I get lost in them, allow myself to stop thinking – it's easier that way – and surrender. Cas's eyes flash a dangerous blue, not quite the grace-filled ones like back at Gabriel's, but close enough for me to know he's sorta, _gone_. Only sorta though. Cas is here, but only a certain part of him, gone is any trace of _my_ angel, the one who misses me, and washes my dirty face.

Cas bites my inner cheek, and soon as the blood hits him – my blood, which has long been intermingled with his grace – it ignites a frenzy. He grabs my hair by its roots, and yanks my neck open sinking his teeth in. I know this sounds like a kinky-vampire-sex thing, but it's not. It's more similar to a lion tearing the throat from his prey, and although he's only tearing through the skin, there are a lot of nerves there, and it hurts. The blood gushes. I cry out.

_He's just starting._

He looks wild with my blood in his teeth, his smile marauding, brows narrowed. Angels like to believe they are as far away from humans as possible in relation, but humans are animals, and so are angels. I see him reach for his belt, and I know what he's going to use it for – and let me tell you, of all the things I know Cas could use, I'm grateful he likes that belt, nasty as it can be – but I also know where else this will go, I risk removing my tank, not wanting it destroyed.

As expected, he doesn't like that, but he's going to beat me anyway, I'm saving my fucking shirt. I look at him defiantly, egging him on a bit, so he'll forget that as I toss the shirt far away. It works, and he's yanking me to him, more kissing, as he undoes my pants, reaching into squeeze my cock in a way that does not make it hard.

In a new burst of frustration, he throws me onto the bed, on my stomach. I hear the sound of his belt jangle, as he lifts it in the air too far away, and then down on my back. I breathe through my teeth, inhaling sharply as he goes on, and on. I work on keeping as quiet as is possible in such a situation, but it gets harder to do so as he goes, never softening the intensity. The angel is strong, and he doesn't stick to my back, which is bad enough. There are the backs of my arms, and where my armpit meets my back, there are also the backs of my legs, even though they are still covered by pants – the pants don't do much in the way of protection. I shake to prevent myself screaming, and I can't fucking help, I start crying at my helplessness, reminding myself over and over that he will stop eventually.

But I want him to stop now.

Thing about leather, it can be a beautiful thing for a nice amount of pain, and who knows? maybe if I were more masochistic, I'd love the fuck out of this. But I'm not. To a degree, perhaps, I like pain, but not this much. This is the get into my head-type pain. The drive me crazy-type pain.

Eventually, he does stop, but he's not done. I breathe sharp breaths, igniting every welt he's left, my eyes hurt from crying, and my lungs burn. I must have been screaming without realizing it. I feel him yanking at my pants. _Noooo._ "Cas, please," I whisper. I don't move, or try to stop him.

He doesn't stop either. When I'm naked, he flips me over. He's got his jacket off, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, the shirt full of blood, _my_ blood.

"So many more places left to mark," he says. "Don't you dare pass out on me." He cracks me hard across the face, waking me up.

"I'm here, Cas. I'm here." I open my eyes. I must have closed them. It's the heat, and all the arduous walking. Though, when am I really well rested? I do my best at consciousness.

"Put your arms over your head, leave them there." The or else is implied.

I do as he says, grabbing my right wrist with my left hand, so I'm not tempted to put them down. Cas will tie me up. I fucking hate being tied up. I wish I liked it. Would be helluva lot easier, let me tell you.

Cas starts in with his mouth on my cock, which is fucking terrible, because there is no situation, or universe in which my cock doesn't get hard when Cas's mouth is on it. Especially when he's so, so good at doing stuff to it with his tongue. "Oh myg-Cas!" I'm panting in a new way, and fuck it feels so good, the contrast between this, and the whipping not lost upon me.

I know there will be no release for me. Not only has Cas banned orgasms for the foreseeable future, this isn't a time I'd get to come anyway. It's just sweet torture. This is about surrendering for him, _suffering_ for him. He brings me to the edge, popping his mouth off. Fuck I want his mouth back on my cock. I know the answer, but I beg anyway. " _Please. Please._ "

He doesn't answer, and moves to bite my inner thigh. I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out. I'm not entirely successful, but it is muffled. I can feel blood trailing down my thigh.

Cas makes good work of my body, leaving nasty bites everywhere, and in son of a bitch fucking places like on the side, where belly meets ribcage, a spot you wouldn't imagine to be so sensitive, while sucking on my cock intermingling pleasure with pain, until my brain can't tell the difference. My pleas could be to stop, or to keep going. Who's to know at this point?

I just know it goes on a long time. Then there's more of his belt, and he's not gentle, throwing me around the room, into the walls, into the headboard. The bright side of this little fellatio game, there is plenty of lube ready for Cas's cock to slide into me when he's finally reached a point of desperation, like he has to build himself up to this point, and then he can have me. He slams in, and everything else feels so horrible, his cock in me, even hard as he's going at me, feels amazing.

I moan a mix of pleasure and pain gripping his cock, pulling him to me with what's left of the strength in my arms. I don't know what does it anymore, if it's the mating bond, or just our bond we've formed over years, but when we reach this point, I don't want him going anywhere. There are still tears, and pain, terrible feelings of helplessness, and fear, but there's also pleasure, and love, and need.

He comes and I feel both his relief and mine, though my relief comes without orgasm.

Cas isn't exhausted, exactly, I'm not sure he gets exhausted, but what just happened between us is huge, always is, and he needs to lay on top of me collecting himself. The magnitude varies, but this one was one of the largest, no surprise considering what happened. He threw me around pretty good this time. I think I have splinters in my arm from the bedpost, and I think it's sprained. I'm surprised I haven't passed out yet.

"Dean?" he says after a long time. There's a lot in that Dean. At the top of the list being, _if you're dead, you're in serious trouble,_ but also, _are you okay?_ and I can tell Cas is Cas again.

"Still here, Cas. Can't get rid of me that easily." I try at funny, but my voice sucks. It's all croak-y and shit.

It is the end of my strength, and I couldn't stay awake, even if you put the most delicious cheeseburgers in the world in front of me. My eyes close without me wanting them to.

~SAM~

It's dark when Lucifer wants me.

It's a dangerous thing being relieved from one terrible duty, looking forward to heading toward another. The brain gets tricked into thinking the lessor of the two evils is _good_ , a _relief._ On some level, it is. It's better than what I just came from. It's not _good_ but there _is_ relief in it. Endorphins are still released, and even happy little neurotransmitters, and my brain and body remember this cycle, it becomes a conditioned response, one remembered as favourable even though it's the furthest thing from.

For my brain, if it's between go into yet another tent, and be used as a fuck toy, or worse, or to Lucifer, there's no question as to which I'd prfer, and I'm alleviated like you wouldn't believe. It doesn't matter how little sense it makes; I should drudge on, hating them both equally, especially with the beating he just gave me this morning, and let's not forget it was Lucifer himself who ordered I offer myself off as the camp whore.

I wish I could say it was _only_ relief I'm feeling, but it's worse. I'm looking forward to being back in his arms. I want him to forgive me – I'm desperate for him to forgive me.

He let me know by way of our bond that I was to come to him, but there was also someone outside the tent I came out of with a set of robes for me, thin ones how I like. I pull them around me in a loose way, and hurry to him, wondering where Jack's got off to, and what's he's done all day?

There's a main tent set up. Of course Lucifer doesn't stop what he calls 'merriment' for travelling. Angels, humans, and demons all party together throughout the day and night when we are not on the move. The humans eating and drinking far more than they need, the angels and demons getting 'drunk' and 'high' on their own brands of narcotics, live music playing.

When I reach the tent, I take a deep breath before going inside. Big crowds tend to ignite my strange claustrophobia on a low burn, and if the crowd is large enough, I can have a mini to large panic attack depending on the crowd, and how tired I am. I'm beyond tired right now.

I head inside, and locate Lucifer right away. He's seated at a large table, drinking a kind of angel wine they call Ci Orsbi, _sorbi_ for short, which roughly translates from Enochian to _happy drink_. It's not the best description. Like alcohol, the drink can result in happiness, but also anger, sadness and other emotions.

In any case, I don't like when Lucifer drinks it. He's a wild card as it is. At least when I approach him, he's smiling. "Sam, come," he says. I'm grateful for small graces, and head directly to his lap, since that's where he directed me, otherwise I would be bowing before him. I can smell the sweet sorbi on his breath. "You feel anxious, my Sam."

"There are a lot of people in here, Luci," I say into his ear, curling into him for protection.

He kisses my cheek understanding what I mean. "You're going to stay here with me, anyway. I missed you all day. Have you learned your lesson?"

I tear up. "I have. Will you forgive me?" _Please_

"Already forgiven. See? Easy."

Easy for him to say, maybe. I can't stop crying, now the tears have started.

"Shhh. C'mon now, Dreamer. Don't cry." It's interesting he still calls me that. I stopped dreaming a long time ago. Everything's just one long nightmare. He has a few names for me, so I don't think too much about it.

I do wipe my eyes and stop crying. It does feel nice to be held, _just_ held. I sit with him like that for a long time. The party goes on around us, people come up to talk to Lucifer. I'm offered food and drink, which I try to decline, but Lucifer urges me to take some bread, and butter. The butter yet another luxury item Lucifer has access to. It's delicious though, and I guess I could use the calories.

"Have you seen Jack, today?" I ask when my heart rate finally slows, and I've relaxed as much as anyone can relax while sitting in the Devil's lap.

"No," he says. "Would you like me to have him brought here, Samshine?"

"If it pleases you." I must look awful and smell worse, I'm not sure I particularly want Jack to see me, but I need to know he's okay.

Lucifer waves over the nearest one of his minions, an angel called Sisco, who I assume he's asked to find Jack.

It takes Sisco about an hour, but eventually he enters with Jack following behind. Everyone is careful not to do anything to the boy that might displease Lucifer. Lucifer might be able to treat Jack as he pleases, but if you do anything to his son, you'd better have his authorization first.

Jack looks about as tired as I feel, and I hate that his face is all bruised and puffy, a decent-sized cut on his lip. When he sees me, his eyes widen. I don't know if I can describe how it feels to have a little boy look at you with concern, and terror. Adults are supposed to be able to make little ones feel safe, not scare the life out of them, leaving them feel like they've got to save you.

"You sent for me, Father," he says when he's in front of Lucifer.

"Where have you been? Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes, Father. Merna fed me. I found a frog at a tree on the edge of camp; I spent my time with him today. Was that all right?" I'm proud of him, he's learning quickly how to speak to his father.

"So long as you remember not to leave camp."

"Yes, Father."

"What's the matter darling?" Lucifer says to me.

"Nothing, Luci. All is well." But it isn't. I can't look at Jack's face like it is anymore; I just want to go to bed and have yet another day be over.

His grip on me tightens. "You're lying. Answer the question."

"I-I-I'm mostly tired, my Lord, but… Jack. He…" I don't want to say it. It's as good as disagreeing with what he did to Jack earlier, and I do, but he's made it clear he doesn't want to hear it.

Lucifer figures me out. "Would you like it if I healed him, Sam?" I don't like the way he says that.

"Yes," I croak. Silent tears start again.

"I would like to do that for you. Would it make you happy?"

I nod into his neck, hiding, as if that will help my confession somehow.

"I do like making you happy, but here's the problem with that, it will show everyone how weak I am for you. We can't have that."

"Of course. I understand."

"Not to mention, Jack's lesson on carelessness will have been for nothing. Why should he bother to listen to me, if I'm just going to heal him at the next turn?" His hand digs into my back where there are old welts from this morning and fresh.

"Mmmph," is all I can manage. _so much pain_

"I do have an idea. A trade. Someone must bare those bruises. If you want me to heal Jack, then you must carry the marks of his punishment."

Yeah, yeah, I get it. He beats the crap out of my face, and he'll heal Jack. There's no question I'm doing it. I come out from my hiding spot in his neck, but before I can say okay, I see Jack in a better light. His entire being is wound with tension, his little body shaking from it. He can't watch me be beat again, especially on his behalf, anymore than I can him.

What a terrible choice to make. Leave his bruises, and have to see them day after day until they're gone, or have Jack go through seeing me beat again. It's hard to say which is worse anymore.

"S-Sammy, _please_ ," he cries.

"Jack, I have to—"

"—nooo! Please don't. No!"

"Grab him," Lucifer says to Sisco.

Sisco snatches Jack up, as he struggles to get away. "Nooo-ooo," he cries brokenly, tears springing to his eyes. "Please."

"Calm down. Now," Lucifer tells him. He gets quiet, real quiet, but his body still shakes with silent crying. "Bring the boy here."

As Sisco comes closer with Jack, I can see everything closer still, his bruises, and cuts, but also his tormented inner pain. _I can't do this._ I don't want to see him with facial damage any less, but he's already got those, I can save him some of the inside kind of damage. But this is already in motion, it's not as simple as telling Lucifer I've changed my mind. I've got to be strategic. "Wait, Luci. You're right. He needs to learn, if he doesn't learn, he can't stay safe. I want him to stay safe. I think we should heed your counsel."

He appraises me to see if I'm lying, externally, but also through the bond. But I've learned a thing or two, and I focus on how much I do want Jack to stay safe, rather than on how I feel about his bruises – the internal and the external. "Very well."

I know I've done the right thing when Jack fills with relief. Sisco sets him down. "May I put Jack to bed?" I ask. _God how I'd love to go to bed too_ "It's well past the time little boys should be in bed."

"You may, but then back to me, you don't attend near enough social gatherings with me." That isn't true. "And clean up some before you come back."

I want to collapse at the thought of having to spend the whole night awake socializing, but there's nothing for it. "Yes, my Lord."

I take Jack to his tent, and sit him on his cot, then set about changing him for bed. He's quiet the whole time. I attempt normal even if there's no normal to be had. "You found a frog?"

"Yes."

"You didn't visit with your friend today?"

"No," he says with haunted eyes.

I thought for sure I'd be hearing a whole story about his imaginary friend. "Why not?" I pull his travel boots off.

"He was busy."

"Busy?"

Jack nods. "I-I think, he has a pet."

"A pet?"

"I couldn't see what he was doing from where I was hiding. I just saw wings and my friend putting something on the wings."

"Wings?" I smile. "Maybe he's got a dragon?"

That has the effect I hope for. Jack stops thinking about the terrors of his own life, and imagines what it would be like for his friend to have a dragon, as I pull off his robes. "You think?"

"If he's everything you say, I think it's very possible."

His eyes glitter with possibility, as I pull the long nightshirt over his head, and his smile outshines his cracked lip. I will have to have yet another talk with him, about how stuff like this isn't his fault, but that can wait 'till tomorrow. For now, I want him to dream about heroes and dragons. I tuck him in and kiss his forehead. "Sammy? Will you sing me that song?"

Right. His favourite. "Of course."

~DEAN~

When I wake up, it's dark. I panic for a moment when I realize Cas is not beside me, but I feel his presence on the other. He's in a chair, dressed, watching me. His eyes are… red, and wet. "Are you crying, Cas?"

"I think so. You are very beautiful, Dean. Especially like this."

I look down to see what he means. I'm a wreck. I'm bruised to kingdom come; I can see welts snaking around from the back, and some from the front. I'm not bleeding anymore, and it looks like he cleaned up the places I was, but there is plenty of scabbing and redness as proof I had been. The bone in my right forearm feels bruised, but Cas must have picked out the splinters, it's bandaged up. Even my toes hurt – what the hell did he do to my toes?

I gotta know though. "Why are you crying, Cas?" _If he even knows._

"I wish I could say it was because I was sorry I did this. I know humans wish for that. But I don't Dean, I like my marks on you; owning you. But I don't want to lose you. This experience was, enlightening. If anyone else tries to take you, I will end them before they can touch you, but death will be here to take you at some point. I'll go on living, and you'll be gone." He's actually fucking crying over this. "Father told me he created humans out of stardust, when I look at you, I know it's true."

 _Of all the…_ "Cas, would you please take off your clothes, and get back in here with me? There's no way I'm fucking going anywhere, anytime soon in this condition, which is _your_ fault, so chop, chop!"

That ends his crying. "And to think I was going to heal your arm. You can forget it now." But he is removing his clothes. When he's naked, he slides in with me, not careful. I hiss. Everything hurts. _Everything._ He smiles. "You're mine, Dean."

"I know, Cas."

"Sleep some more," he says running a hand through my hair, which I can't decide if it hurts more than it feels good. Either way, I just want him touching me, near me.

"I want to, but… Advil. Is Advil against the rules? There's some in my pack." I found a bunch. Expired. But it still fucking works, just less good.

He reaches for my pack, and grabs the Advil and water. I drink some down, with most of the water. "Sleep now," he says taking the stuff from me when I'm done.

I close my eyes, but don't fall asleep right away. I picture Sammy, best I can remember him. We were both in our twenties when I last saw him. Babies. He's a man now out there, somewhere. I don't think about him with Lucifer though, I imagine he's found a partner, and they have a kid – Sammy'd been great with kids. A couple of dogs, maybe even a fucking cat. Hell, he'd have a farm, with every kind of animal, churning butter and shit. It's a nice picture.

It'll never happen. Even if there were no manic angels, or the apocalypse, with the kind of life Sammy and I led, neither of us would have gone that way. Still, daydreaming's nice.

When I begin to drift off, I reach that point of half awake, half asleep, where you hear shit that's only in your mind, and you can't tell you've entered a dream state, but you have. I see Sam's face, and me promising him everything would be okay; him believing every word. Fuck his eyes, believing in me, in us. Lucifer's minions take him, and I reach out to grab him, calling out in my gruff voice. " _Sammy!_ "

I wake with a start at the sound of my own screams. I'm squeezing Cas to death, my eyes must look wild as I stare up at him, still not really sure where I am. It's bright again, holy fuck. I slept the whole night? It felt like a second. "Dean? You were having nightmares."

My heart is racing. "Yeah." Feels like I didn't sleep at all.

"We have to move on soon, Dean," Cas tells me, but he's soothing me through our bond, and with his touch that doesn't hurt like it did. I'm far from healed, but I do heal faster than I did before. The edge of pain is gone.

"I think I'm okay, Cas. Just need more water, and food, maybe another few hours?" I say even though my sleep's been shit this whole time and I feel like I could pass out for a million years.

He nods. "Should I go get you some food?"

"No. Stay."

He rolls his eyes skyward, and I almost whine when he gets up anyway, but I'm filled with relief when it's just to get his jacket. He reaches in the magic pocket, and pulls out my bag with the cheeseburgers, oh and fuck the pie. I forgot when I handed the bag to him there was pie in here too. "Really?"

He smiles. "Eat."

Don't have to tell me twice. I'm hungry, and I eat – all of it, after I say a little prayer of course. Cas watches me, like he's enjoying something too. I do offer some to him at one point, but he shakes his head telling me it would be wasted on him. "So, it true Cas? Humans are made from stardust?"

He nods confident in that knowledge. "Stardust, carbon, and heat."

"That's it?"

"No. Some other elements, but the recipe ingredients for humans are rather simple," he says like he's talking about baking a cake.

I think it's all nonsense, but I still like hearing about it. S'a bit magical thinking we're made of Stardust. "Well you're not calling me Stardust Cas, I don't care what kinda endearments you want to dream up for me."

That gets me a noteworthy scowl. "I thought humans who consumed as much food as you just did, were supposed to get sleepy?" That's Cas for _go the fuck to sleep._

"Fine. I'll try to sleep, again." I close my eyes.

"Stop having nightmares," he orders like he controls everything, even my dreams. Asshole.

"I keep telling you Cas, the phrase humans prefer is, _sweet dreams._ " Jeez.

I'm pushing it, as I do, and I’m sure he's going to retaliate, but instead he shocks the hell out of me. "Sweet dreams, Stardust," he says, as I drift off, and I can't tell if he's fucking with me, or not. All I know is, maybe he does command my dreams too. I slip off and have one helluva peaceful sleep.


	6. Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. *Finally* I can post something. I had to figure out the timeline for this though and it took me awhile. Plus, the scenes for this story are coming to me from all different points on the timeline. Now that I know this, I will approach the writing of it a little differently, but know I've written 21K for this story, so I've got lots! 
> 
> And I need to write a bit more so it will make sense and gel together before I post more. THEN I will head back over to other stories. Still got some kinkiness to write up for my Ducky friend in The Marriage of Dean Winchester series that's just been sitting there, would like to post the next part of WW, have a little chapter coming for The Winchesters (little!Dean) and also, some For You. What am I missing? 
> 
> Hope you all like this. A little reprieve from all the violence, but uh, don't get too comfortable ;) 
> 
> Love you all! Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Go over to my website for a little preview to a surprise I have coming for The Winchesters.

~Dean~

It takes a few more days, but Cas calms the fuck down. I say a private prayer to Father for that. It's not that I've taken to praying anymore than before, I've just got _used_ it. It kind of feels like writing in a journal. Not that I ever kept one, but how I imagine it to feel. 'Father' has become my sounding board, that person I can say shit to, without having to worry about him saying shit back to me. Sometimes other people's opinions are helpful, but more often than not they complicate things.

But I'm glad for Cas to be only his usual level of psychopath, as is, we scare people, but with me walking along visibly all beat to fuck, and Cas with his shirt tie-dyed in my blood, that's a new level.

Cas takes us through a string of sparsely populated towns. Towns are risky places to live nowadays. Only Communities offer any sort of real protection. Towns are open, and more importantly not protected by magic. The people who live in towns, do it by choice (they don't want to live under constant angel rule), or because they are waiting to get into a community. Either way, they are a rougher kind of people. Them steering clear of _us_ says something about how we must look. _We represent a warning._

On the third day, I'm almost completely healed. And while Cas isn't as crazy as he was after the whole Gabriel incident, I get a little worried about how he'll choose to mark me next, because mark me he will with such a fresh canvas to work on. I don't spend a whole lot of time without _something_.

Of all the things I think he'll do, judging from past experiences, I don't expect what he ends up doing. "Come. I'll take your collar off before we hit the next town."

"Cas?" _Is this really Cas?_

He scowls at me in a way only Cas could. Okay, yeah it's Cas, but he's acting weird. "I thought you'd be overjoyed."

"Believe me, I wanna be, but I'm starting to see the wisdom in it."

"Then stop your mournful thoughts about it. They're driving me insane."

What? That implies caring. _Does he care?_ I mostly think he does, but it's still something I ask myself now and then even after all these years. I get Cas, get a lot of his motivations for doing the things he does, being the way he is _cerebrally_ , but that human place inside me finds it hard to understand him sometimes, and wonders. "They're not mournful Cas. That's called irritation. This thing itches. Is that because of the angel magic?" I'm a lot more comfortable asking questions than I used to be.

He doesn't answer my question, more interested in being right. "Some of it is mournfulness. I know something of you after all this time."

"Okay, fine. But you know how I feel about this thing. I'm trying Cas. Can you at least _feel_ I'm trying?" Despite everything, I love the guy, but he exasperates me too sometimes, when it feels like nothing I do is good enough. Just another thing makes me miss Sammy. Sammy looked up to me, and it was the opposite – I could do no wrong with Sammy. _Fuck I miss my little brother._

His dark eyes are still dark, but they soften. "Come here." I go to him ready to sink into his arms whether he wants me to or not. He's gentle as he pulls me to him, and runs a hand through my dirty hair. "I can feel you are trying. It is appreciated."

He tilts my chin up and kisses my lips. I haven't bathed in days, nor has he been able to perform any kind of cleaning on me with his angel mojo. I have no idea how he could still want to kiss me. _I must stink to high heaven._ I'm still caked in blood in the places that wouldn't wipe clean with a dry cloth, since any water I do have needs to be saved for drinking. He reaches to the collar, and undoes it. Cas has explained to me that while removing the collar does require _connecting_ with his grace to come off, it doesn't _use_ grace, and therefore is safe to take off whenever he chooses to. "As for this, you know I don't run a democracy. I make the decisions. Put it in your pack."

I do think it's probably for the better I wear it, but that doesn't stop my instant joy at being free of the thing. I know Cas can feel that, and in return I feel his pleasure at my joy. For once I choose not to be flippant about this kind of stuff, the feely stuff. He's uncomfortable about it in the same way any person is uncomfortable with change, and something has changed between us. "Why do you think the collar itches?" I ask instead. You would think anything with angel-mojo would be hypoallergenic.

"I don't know. It shouldn't itch, or bother you in any way, really. Let's see." He takes a closer look at my neck. "There isn't any redness, or marks. Does it itch now?"

"Nope. Seems all good since you took it off."

"Hmmmm. Well, if your neck is okay, we have other more important matters ahead of us."

Ah. We've come to this town for a reason.

"How is your arm?"

"Aches a little, but it's better. We gonna have to fight?"

"Quite possibly."

I nod and leave it at that. Cas isn't one for giving me details if he doesn't feel like it. I'm not going to push him. We head into the town.

We're still a sight. Cas tends to be on his own without any help, but the blood-stained shirt adds to his dangerous ambiance. I'm gross and dirty, both of which tend to give a rugged appearance, and I'm sporting a nice face scar this time down my brow and cheek. This doesn't happen often at the rate I heal, but it was kinda deep. Thankfully I was able to concoct a few butterfly bandages with what I had in my dwindling first-aid kit. Honestly the scar is kinda badass. I doubt Cas will let me keep it though. He's such a fucking dichotomy. On the one had, he loves his marks on me. On the other, he doesn't care for permanent imperfections, unless he approves of them, like the one he left on my ass cheek for a year and then eventually grew bored of. It's like I'm a fucking canvas, and he continually likes to create new works. Probably am to him.

As we are, no one heads over with a welcome pie, but they don't make effort to chase us away either. Even if they are people against angels, they don't do much to fight them; not usually. I follow Cas to a house that looks like it's been crudely kept and remodelled. He stops, and I don't like the look on his face.

"Cas?"

"It's warded."

That explains the look. Warding against angels is illegal. Well, unofficially. It's not like there are any laws anymore, other than the 'laws of the land' and of angels. It's simply well known by this point, if you're caught by an angel putting up warding, you've just sentenced yourself to death, no questions asked. No one tries it. Whoever lives here is one balls-y motherfucker. "Cas?" I repeat, only this time I mean, _what we doing?_

"This will make it easy. This person must die for their crimes. You go in, kill them, undo the warding, and then come get me."

"No problem Cas, only, I'm getting the sense from their uh, recklessness, they might not be so easy to kill." That's my way of saying no I don't want to, without saying no. Killing people that might not otherwise be harmful is not something I prefer, but let's just say Cas wasn't kidding me when he said there would be things I wouldn't want to do, and I'd be doing them anyway.

"You can."

"How do you know?"

"The person who lives here is only human, and he's old. You are an extra powerful human."

"Look, can I at least know what I'm risking my life for?"

"No. You're stalling."

Ugh. "All right, fine." I grab my firearm from my pack, stowing the rest by a tree. The guy is likely a shady character anyway, always are in this kind of town. I'm sure he rapes and pillages, and stuff. In the beginning it was a lot harder. I don't think about it as much, and just do.

As I approach the house, I find it's even hard for me to get past the warding. I do have Cas's grace in me, which has long mingled with every cell in my body, I guess that must have something to do with it. I look back at Cas. "It's real sludgy moving, Cas."

"We don't have many other options, Dean."

The thing he's going for here must be important, so I keep walking, but it's heavy, like walking through a wall of water. My muscles strain with effort, and I doubt my ability to fight under these circumstances is going to be formidable.

As I get further away from Cas, and closer to the house, the thickness gets worse, and without him to consult, I make a new plan on my own in my mind to try to find the warding first. No Cas doesn't like when I don't consult him on plan changes, but even he gets that sometimes it must be done on the fly. This is one of those times.

I'm careful, and I don't see, or hear anyone as I approach the door. _Maybe we got lucky and the guy is out?_ I try the door, it's not locked, which makes me think it's unlikely he's out. I head in cautiously, but don't make it too far into the living room, when I hear the click of a rifle being cocked. "That's far as you go boy, turn 'round."

I do, slowly. With how thick it is in here _for me_ , I won't be able to run. When I turn to see who it is, I'm filled with relief, and then terror. "Uncle Bobby?"

"Dean?"

"Jesus, Bobby! Never thought I'd see you again." I immediately break out in tears, because he's a sight for fucking sore eyes, I move to embrace him in a hug, but remember _just_ in time. "No. Stay back. Don't… don't touch me."

His faces screws up in consternation, just like I remember. "You in trouble, boy?"

"Yeah, some."

"And Sam? How's Sam?"

I don't even know where to begin with that. "It's a long story Bobby, and I don't have a whole lot of time. There's an angel outside who wants me to kill you."

"Kill me? Let's see him try. I got this thing rigged six ways to Sunday."

I don't doubt it, but Cas, well he's Cas. "See that's the long part of the story. I'm mated to that angel, to get Sam back. Lucifer has him."

"Mated? _Lucifer?_ "

"We need to get you out of here."

"I say we kill feathers."

"There isn't even a remote possibility of that, Bobby. He's too strong."

"Says you."

Yeah says me. Gabriel's afraid of him, Bobby's in over his head. But how to convince him of that in a short time? I run a hand through my greasy hair, and think for a second. "I _swear_ on Sam's life Bobby, if you don't get out of here somehow, if you even can, Castiel will kill you." Hell, he just might kill me too, but no way I'm killing Bobby.

Bobby appraises me in a way that says he's considering it. "I got a lot of stuff here Dean."

"I don't doubt it, but your won't be able to protect it without your life anyway." I can feel Cas's irritation, probably wondering what's taking me so long.

"I got a way I can leave. Tunnels."

"Okay go. And, the warding?"

"That might take you a little bit. There are a few of'em. Eight total." I nod, he tells me where they are. "Since I'm leaving, any chance of a hug, or are ya goin' t'disintegrate?"

"I don't know how this is gonna pan out, Bobby. Better not."

He huffs. "Idjit. All right, though Dean, that's a mighty fancy necklace you're wearin'."

God dammit. _Does it always have to fall out of my shirt?_ I tuck it back in, just glad it's not off my neck. I'm tempted to ask Bobby what it does, but there isn't time. Cas is getting angry. "Go."

He heads to the basement, and I don't see him again. I wonder _if_ I'll ever see him again. I didn't think I would the last time I saw him; this was unexpected. So many questions, I would have loved to catch up with him over beers about. I take comfort in Bobby's resourcefulness. _Bet he has a go-pack near his secret tunnel entrance._ How he manages stuff like that I'll never know.

I set about undoing the warding, which does take time. Bobby's directions were quick, I have to do a little searching, but I do find all eight. If anything, it gives Bobby some time to make his get away. I know the warding is undone when I feel the weight lift and I can move freely. As I'm heading out, Cas is already heading into the house, and he is pissed. "Cas… _Cas…_ " I say, but let him do what he will, which is grab me by the hair, drag me into the house, and throw me into the wall.

"What took so long? And why didn't I hear any gunshots? I know I heard two voices, Dean."

"When I came in, the air was thick, I could barely move, Cas. Was a wily old guy, he took off. I undid the warding though."

"Got away?"

That's essentially the, _dog ate my homework_ excuse to Cas. I may have used it before. "Yes, sir."

He is not satisfied with that. "I'll deal with you later. For now stay there, and don't move."

I make myself comfortable as I can on the floor, and leaned up against the wall. Cas ransacks poor Bobby's house. Destroys it. And I guess he finally finds what he's looking for because he returns, coat flaring behind him. "Go to the garage and see what there is for starting a fire. We can't leave the items he has here."

I really don't want to light Bobby's house on fire, but it's a small price to pay for having gotten him out of here. Though fuck he looks scary right now. "I-I'm low on some stuff, Cas. Could I…?"

"Fine. I'll grab the kerosene. Be quick about it."

I make my way around the house grabbing some first aid supplies, and clean shirts, and some food.

It's not long after that Bobby's house, the one he lived in for however long goes up in flames. The shady looking townsfolk come out of their homes to see, but they don't move to stop it, or head over to make sure the guy who lives there is all right. They're just happy the crazy angel and his sidekick aren't setting their houses on fire. Cas leaves them with a warning of what will happen if any other angel warding is found in their sorry little town.

We depart, and soon as we do, the horrible anticipation of what Cas is going to do to me starts to seep in. It's all fun and games being a hero in the moment, but after, I pay. It's why I choose my acts of heroism. _Never mind the fact that I do want to obey him, even when the acts are terrible._

Cas is livid as he walks. I should keep my mouth shut, but I can't. Being anxious makes me talk, even if it tends to make others silent. "It was hard to move in there, Cas."

Cas spins around violently. " _Don't_ lie to me. You know what the punishment is for lying." Cas spins back around and keeps walking.

I shiver, because yeah I do. Technically I've already lied, but Cas might be less murderous, and less inclined to punish me that way, if I confess, rather than letting him beat it out of me. "It was a family member, Cas. The equivalent of Sam." I wasn't fucking letting you kill him, I don't say. Explaining is one thing, _standing up to him_ in a way he considers defiant is another. I don't apologize like I normally do. I am sorry I disobeyed him, I'm not sorry for my actions.

He doesn't respond and we keep walking at a pace I find difficult to keep up with even with my superb level of fitness. I've grown fitter with each passing year, all the damn walking because Cas is too much of an angel snob to find a car. Though I have to say there are benefits to the walking; we stay more hidden this way. Not too many cars on the roads these days, they tend to be noticed.

Periodically I reach out to _feel_ Cas. I feel lucky I can sense him on the inside during times like these. Of course there are other times I wish I couldn't, but in this instance, with Cas posturing like he might well kill me this time, and finally be done with the burden I am, I can feel what's going on in him to create his state. He's conflicted. Father only knows why, but he is. Conflicted is good though. Still, I check on the amulet, making sure it's there, like it's some sort of light in a dark tunnel.

It's hours later, when he informs me we'll be stopping, and it's about fucking time. At his manic pace, _still_ in the heat by the way, he'd be carrying me again soon. We've hit up this weird block of houses. It's no longer a place you could call an abandoned town. Clearly, years ago, this place was blown apart, leaving only random rows of houses, where neighbourhoods would have been. A lot of trees and other forms of brush have grown in so you can barely see the pavement anymore, making it look like people built the homes among a tall sea of grass.

These aren't my favourite places to stay, for a multitude of reasons, but it's marginally better than outside. Tired, still anxious as fuck (because Cas has a long memory, and no way he's not been thinking of exactly how to punish me all the way here), and frustrated, I hack my way into the house Cas deems the most stable, removing as much of the overgrowth I can with a knife from my pack.

This house is in decent shape for not having been kept up in years – must have been newer – and I'm hoping there's a comfortable bed. It looks like it used to be a nice house. The counter tops and appliances all look like they would have cost a lot. Too bad the shower in this place won't work.

"Put your pack down, Dean," Cas says.

 _Fuck._ I do what he says, no questions asked. Instinctively, I head over and kneel in front of him, knowing how much trouble I'm in. There usually isn't time for formalities like this, but there is a formal protocol between an angel and his mate. Apparently, in older times, Angels and their mates spent a long time learning and practicing such protocols. Angels would have a house, not unlike a Community, and the mate would run that home, deferring only to their mated angel. It gave the human unimaginable status, but the angel was the human's master.

I have learned some of the protocol through osmosis, but probably haven't scratched the surface to all of it. Sometimes it's Cas beating it into me – I don't exactly get warnings, and when I do I consider myself lucky – other times it's the bond telling me; _instinct_. Kneeling before him at particular times is something I've often done. Sure he's instructed me to just as often, but there I times I just _know_ when it's a must.

 _It's a good idea to premeditate what Cas is gonna want._ Makes him far less murder-y.

"Good boy," he says, which surprises the fuck out of me. Cas isn't heavy on the praise—I live for it, I could probably recount each and every ounce he's given me over the years—and this is not a time I'd expect even a drop. _What's going on with him?_

I keep quiet, and concentrate on the spot in front of me, until directed otherwise, crossing my wrists over the other behind my back. Cas continues to do a whole bunch of out of the ordinary shit, and it's scaring me more than him reading me some list of tortures he's about to inflict on me. He reaches down, and I have to work not to flinch, as he places a hand on me, and proceeds to heal me in full _with_ whatever the fuck he adds in to leave me clean and refreshed. Nothing beats the splendour of an actual bath or shower, but I'm left as clean as if I'd had several.

Tears start leaking from my eyes. _This is it. This is finally it, isn't it?_ I've been too disobedient, and Cas is going to kill me. Making me all pretty and clean is, like, some sort of weird angel mortician thing. Fuck. I'm never gonna find Sammy, he's on his own with Lucifer, and, and, and… I'll miss Cas, even if he's the one fucking offing me, which is fucked up, but it _is_ and I'll fucking miss him. Hell, from all he's said, I bet he doesn't even really _prefer_ (a word he's always using) to kill me, but it's probably some Angel Law, and he's always the obedient son, never willing to disobey _Father_ for anything, or anyone.

"You're… stop that. That _hurts_." Cas reels in pain, something I can only feel but can't see while looking at the ground in front of me as I am. Part of me wants to say fuck it, he's killing me, and break form, but the other side wants to be a good little obedient pet in my last moments with my master. _also so fucked up_

I cry harder. Silently shaking.

"Stop it." I feel Cas's pain as he feels mine.

"S-stop w-what, sir?"

I feel a surge of anger from Cas, and then he's smacking me across the face, _hard_. I taste blood. _so much for the perfect corpse_ It does have the desired effect, and I snap out of the mournful sadness. Cas lifts me by my shirt collar and throws me on the couch, so I'm sitting up in the middle of it.

Cas is straddled on top of me, and I'm looking into murderous blue eyes. "What is wrong with you?"

"I don't wanna die, yet Cas. _Please._ I don’t want to leave you, even though you're a huge dick by the way," I'm not dying without getting that one in, "I don't want to leave Sammy alone."

Cas squints at me confused as fuck. "Die… what the…?" Suddenly Cas starts laughing. Now I know something's seriously wrong. I've _never_ heard the angel laugh like this before. Sure he's smiled now and again, even the odd chuckle when I'm particularly hilarious, and even that's seldom, but laugh a full-belly-laugh? _Never._ "I see. You thought I was going to kill you. Understandable. I admit it did cross my mind a time or two," he says like he was considering whether or not he should switch long distance plans on his cell phone. "You are disobedient. You anger me when you don't abide my orders. In past, I would have gotten rid of such a mate a long time ago."

"So… you're not killing me?"

"No."

"Then, then why did you heal me and stuff?" I wipe the foolish tears from my eyes feeling like an idiot.

"After our time here, we will be going through some dangerous lands and territories. I need you strong. Also, you smell."

Huh, and yeah I do smell. Still, he could have decided to use his grace before I spent all that time cutting way the brush in front of this house by hand. But I don't say so. Knowing Cas, I'd just get a lecture on how it's good for me to do those things to keep up my paltry human strength. "Is that why you felt so conflicted all day?" I doubt there's any universe where _not_ punishing me is a thing Cas understands, but if he needs me at full strength, which means being healed and rested, that leaves out huge physical punishment, _for now_ , probably not small ones though. Resting takes time, which we don't have a lot of. He wants my body resting as soon as possible.

"Yes." His hand snakes through my hair, tightening. I have to bite my lip to stop from crying out. "You need to be _severely_ punished, which you know angers me. I don't prefer to discipline you so thoroughly after the intense reclaiming only days ago."

 _That what that was?_ "It's not like I planned it, Cas. It was my _uncle_. You might as well ask me to kill Sammy." Maybe I'm feeling brave, even if it's the stupid kind of brave with my punishment only being postponed rather than cancelled, but I say how I'm feeling about that anyway. I tolerate Cas fucking with a lot of shit, but not my family. Whatever the mating did to me, it's never touched that. I'm still scared to do it, but so far, I have been able to muster up the gumption to do it.

"I wouldn't ask you to kill Sam."

"Wouldn't you? You do whatever Father says. We don't know what His plans are, that could be one. What then?" It's something I've thought about. _A lot._

He nods. "You are right. It could be, and then we will have to do as Father asks."

"In that case, it's a good thing you have my angel blade." My eyes are hard, but there's a bit of false bravado there I'm trying to hide, because yeah, I'm promising to kill him if it comes down to that, if I even can. Only, Cas is terrifying. Standing up to him is suicide. He would and could end me easily if it ever came down to it. He's already thought about it a couple times today, maybe _this_ will be the moment. I'm scared to death of what he'll do, but I'm saying it anyway, maybe _because_ of how scared I am. Today was too much of a reminder of my greatest fear. With Cas out of the room today, it was easy not to follow Cas's orders, but will I really have so much bravery if he's standing there?

I can feel the heat building, and I wait for the first brutal punch to crack my jaw. Here it comes. It should come. It would have any other time, but Cas doesn't lift a finger against me. This isn't the first time I've promised things of this nature. I've paid dearly in the past for it, but maybe Cas is realizing there's no amount of beating, or discipline that can change my mind about some things. The rage falls out of him, and is gone like a puff of smoke.

"You will be punished for your transgression, Dean, but I do understand what you are saying even if I do not agree."

"You don't agree you should protect the people you love at all cost?"

"I don't agree we should disobey Father for any reason."

I could have the whole debate with him about how 'what about when Father is wrong', to which he'll simply explain that Father is never wrong, and on and on it will go like that, but it's a waste of time. I'd much rather get to the resting part of all this. I'm healed, yeah, but I need the rest too. Yet, the question leaves my lips. "If Father says to kill me, what would you do then?"

Cas freezes. He's either not thought of that, or doesn't like to think of it. "He won't say to."

"Not my question. What _if_ , Cas?" I appraise him softly with both inner and outer sensory equipment.

He ignites with fury. "Then I would." _He's lying._ I feel it. But I don't push him. There's only so far I'm willing to go. "Enough of this. Come."

He takes my hand and tugs me off the couch, pulling me upstairs where he uses more grace to fix up the room. He begins removing his coat. "Get undressed."

I _almost_ roll my eyes, he's so fucking romantic.

As I start to undress, Cas continues to strip, and I can't help watching him. Even after all this time, I love watching him peel off layers until finally I can see his naked body. It quickens my heart, and my cock hardens. I'm still banned from coming privileges, but fuck, I want him.

When we're both naked, he grabs my hand, and yanks me down to kneeling by the bed. He says the prayer tonight, instead of making me. "Dear Father, thank you for your continued guidance on our journey. Dean has much to atone for this day. I will perform my duties when the time presents, and guide him back to that path. Thank you for your mercy. Amen."

He pulls me up and grabs both my wrists. "I will be gentle," he says like I was worried about it. _He's the one concerned over having a sidekick at full strength._ Also, gentle to Cas isn't gentle. Not in the least. It's just, _gentle for Cas._ He yanks me to him and into a deep kiss. Like a fucking teenager, I lose myself in the kiss. I'm done with talking about serious things, and thinking about punishments, and the ins and outs of angel-mating practices; I just want to use my body and _feel_.

Feel Cas.

As always, he leads and I follow. He kisses me, nipping at my lips, sucking my neck, making me pant and moan before he's done much. " _Cas…_

Grabbing my leg around the top of my thigh, he spins us, so he can slam me onto the bed, now plush with pink, yellow, and fucking lilac pillows. Cas doesn't waste a lot of time, since it's a commodity, and he slides his dick into my already leaking hole fast, but not with his usual savagery.

There will still be bruises, I'll be sore from his roughness, but he's using _some_ Cas." My cock feels thick as it leaks. I want to beg him, which the sadist in him likes at times, but I've been disobedient enough for one day.

"I can tell you want to come, Dean, but naughty boys don't come, do they?"

"Unnnhh, uh, n-no sir, they don't." _fuuuuuck_ There's always that tiny hope he'll turn a new leaf and not be so strict.

Instead, denying me turns him on all the more, and me too. His thrusts speed up, and I'm working hard to hold back the orgasm that would be oh so lovely to just let spill forth.

Cas is beautiful when he comes. He actually looks what you'd think angelic would be, with his back arching, the last of the sun for the day surrounding him in a white aura, he even has a pretty come-face, which no one does, but Cas somehow manages it.

I'm left tired and wanting, but not completely unsatisfied. The sex felt good, and I can't help it, I enjoy pleasing Cas, and from what I can feel, he's very fucking pleased. I have a tingle of that subby feeling I get when Cas and I fuck, but not as strong as it can be. As usual, I'm left with no doubt I'm his, and only his, but without the intense violence, I'm not all sex-sub-drunk.

"That was not nearly enough, but it will have to do for now," he says, still touching me, dragging fingers down my torso, and circling my belly button. He leans in to kiss my belly, and then sucks hard enough I think he's going to suck my skin clean off. I cry out, it fucking hurts, but I don't resist. "There."

He's left a giant, nasty looking hickey, which he admires, and it makes me laugh. He gets an impish look about him. "Cas. _Cas,_ don't you fucking dare." But it's not like I'm going to stop him.

Cas gets his wish, naturally, and proceeds to suck out several painful hickies, making it look like I got attacked by an octopus. I looking fucking awful, but he's happy, so I can't help being fine with it. _The sap I am, in love with a creature that can't really love me back_

"Will you tell me about this reclaiming thing, Cas?" I ask, boldly taking his hand and intertwining it with mine, watching as I do it, loving his hand, marvelling at it.

He watches me do this with his hand as he talks. "Haven't you noticed? We've done it many times."

"Not like _that_ , Cas."

"Yes I suppose. _That_ , was different. A stronger one. They _took_ you from me," he hisses and I can feel the beginnings of lightning in the room.

Maybe this is the worst topic, but uh, curiosity got the cat? I keep going. "How is that different? How did that make you," a crazed lunatic, "so protective?"

Cas is still ignited, but he seems calm enough to answer. "It's a bit of a long answer, and you need to sleep."

"Bedtime story, Cas? I'm not even tired with all that healing you did," I say as I yawn. Okay, I might be tired, but I want to hear the story.

He's annoyed, but he starts talking. He knows I find his voice soothing, and he's probably hoping I'll instantly fall asleep. "Grace is somewhat intelligent, or conscious if you prefer."

"I know that, Cas."

"Do you want me to tell you or not?" I shut up. "As I've explained to you before, it forever seeks its counterpart when distributed to another like is the case in a mating ritual. When a mate is _taken_ , it knows, and it cries out, calling and calling until the angel finds its mated-human." He peers down at me probably hoping I've fallen asleep, but I haven't. I love hearing this shit.

"Is that why you had to come get me so quickly? Because the grace was, crying?"

"No. I _missed_ you if you'll remember," he says still feeling the pain of that. "But I suppose you only have a human memory, and a human can only remember so much."

Jesus. "I remember that Cas, I was thinking that was where the missing came from."

"No. That is an entirely different thing."

I swear to Christ Cas has gone from hating the little bit of humanity he originally considered a disease he contracted from me, and has become proud of it, like it makes him better than the other angels now.

" _Most_ angels don't have need to jump at the command of whiney grace that has been tainted with human," I think Cas thinks he complimenting me, "they remain aware of its demands, and return to it as they like. But sometimes when they return, the bond – also a living thing - is unhappy, because the grace is unhappy, and demands a reclaiming to restore balance. Of course this results in one or both of the pair to become very unbalanced."

That explains what I was feeling. I had this increased need to please Cas. I already crave being near him, but it was more. Just the thought of it has me rubbing my cheek against his hand like a fucking cat. "You were outrageous, Cas."

"I felt… unbalanced to an extreme, therefore an extreme claiming was necessary to settle the bond."

"What are the consequences? Sounds like more grace magic at work." There are always fucking consequences to this shit.

"The mate can die."

"Cas!"

"You say that like I can control it. Blame Gabriel for taking you, he knew. You saw how angry I was at him for doing so."

I have several bones to pick with Gabriel. "I dunno Cas, it had elements of before, sure, but it didn't feel like a claiming, nothing has." He claims this has happened before, but you think I would have noticed.

"It wouldn't be. No claiming will be like the original claiming. Think of it more like calming down a whiny toddler, versus making a whole new toddler."

I nod. "Did it make you different?"

He nods smiling. "I am even stronger. Our bond is strengthened."

I decide not to burst his bubble. The bond has always felt pretty damn strong to me, but I bet it's because I'm _just_ a human, and I feel all this crap way more than he does. _Maybe he's finally feeling some of what I do?_

"Dean I feel… alive. This is strange to say, I've been 'alive' for millennia, but that's the only way I know how to describe it."

I laugh. "Maybe you were alive, but now you're finally awake?"

Cas considers that. "Maybe. Whatever the case, something's happened to me Dean, something I can't describe properly, yet."

I want to tease him and suggest that maybe he's becoming more human, but even I know when to keep my mouth shut. _Sometimes._ "Do you feel balanced now, Cas?

"I think it's still settling some. Frist I felt prone to aggression, now I'm, well just want to do this with you," he explains by holding me a little tighter. "I feel like I've been pulled the other way. But not to worry, it will settle, and things will be normal again."

Huh, now he wants to be all sweet and cuddly? I yawn again. "Not worried, Cas. I like this. Like it when you're nice." And I do like it, but I _love_ the other Cas terrifying as he is. After the other day though, I'm happy to enjoy this.

"If I were, _nice_ all the time it would drive you crazy. You live for the thrill of danger, don't think I haven't noticed."

I smile against his chest. I fucking do, even if in those moments, I really fucking wish I didn't. It does make me happy that he notices things about me. "You noticed me, Cas. I think you like me." But then I remember. "Ugh, what evil way are you gonna punish me? I have to know. It's going to plague me." Yeah, yeah, I know. Never tell a sadist what you're scared of, but I can't help it sometimes.

"Oh no, I'm not telling you what, but I will mention that there are two parts, one of them I will introduce to you tomorrow, the other we'll save for when we make it to Balthazar's Community. Should take us ten days or so to get there."

 _Balthazar's Community?_ We haven't been to that one. I perk up despite that I'm told he will likely beat the fuck out of me there. "Is it nice?" Like Gabriel's, I don't say.

"Balthazar has, specific tastes, but it does have many of the amenities humans find pleasing."

"Will I get to have a bath? A private one?"

"Perhaps. If you're a good boy."

I puff my chest. "I am, Cas."

"Sometimes." He leans in to kiss my lips. "Now, sleep."

"Pretty sure that's not how _nice Cas_ says goodnight." I'm half asleep already.

I hear him laugh one more time, before it goes away again for a long while. "Sweet dreams, Stardust."

~**~

When I wake up, it's dark, and fucking eerie. I'm not used to houses anymore, not at all. Never was if truth be told, haven't spent too much time in one. Cas is gone, and when I reach out, I can't find him though I can tell he's not gone too far. _probably to get me food or something_

But there are glowing yellow eyes watching me in the dark. I jump up to grab for my pack, but realize I left it on the other side of the room. There are no damn lights to turn on, and I have only the scant amount of moonlight coming in the room to show me anything.

I hear small footsteps as it approaches me, and I hear sniffling. _Is it crying?_ When it comes closer, I see an outline I recognize. "Little boy?" I don't know his name, if _it_ even has a name. He's crying and he's scared though, so I wave him to come onto the bed. He won't be the first dangerous thing I've had in my bed tonight.

It's a struggle for him to climb onto the high bed with his small body, but he does, and he stares at me.

By this point, I'm rejecting my theory that this kid is following us. It's just not possible – unless he can fucking fly – and I start to dream up other theories that maybe there's some kinda time warp he walks through. Huh. Or maybe he's got a tiny little Delorian. That would be wicked.

"Are you okay, kid?"

He shakes his head.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Another shake. "Do, do you have a dragon?"

I can barely see the kids face, just the outline and his weird fucking eyes that glow in the dark, but in the day are like Sammy's. Dragon makes me think of Cas somehow. "Some might say that I do. I don't recommend it though. Dragon's are grouchy."

That makes him giggle, and whatever he is, his giggle is fucking awesome. I feel like I won a million bucks. "Does he let you ride him?"

Lord help my teenage brain, but I cannot stop the innuendo from crossing my mind. The kid doesn't know what I'm thinking and I bet it will make him laugh again. "Oh yeah, all the time. Only thing that makes him less grouchy."

I'm right. He laughs again. Worth it.

Then the moonlight hits his face, and I want to pound something to death. His face is bruised to fuck, and who knows what else this kid gets up to – he's already tracking after two of the more dangerous sorts you can track after – but for some reason, I sense the bruise isn't some sort of fall or accident. Someone is beating this kid, and I'm going to turn them into pâté. He's kinda like me in that he's not the talking sort, so I go a different route. "So kid, you said you needed help to save your friend?"

His eyes that were bright with giggling a moment ago, take back their more familiar haunted demeanour. "I don't think I can save him anymore."

"Why?" I ask, though I bet I know why. He got hurt by whoever's also hurting his friend, and it scared him, lowered his confidence.

"I'm too small."

"Kid, please. I'm small in comparison to a dragon, and look at me, got my very own."

Suddenly, his eyes are sparkling with the wonder of that. The possibility. The fucking hope. _you need hope, you die without hope_

"I know it's fucking terrifying. It's the same way owning a dragon." Oh god, if Cas could hear me now. "I'm scared all the time, everyday, and sometimes I have my moments like you are now where I doubt myself and everything I've ever done, but you know what? I remember that I got the dragon. He's mean a lot of the time, and he hurts me too, but he'll never defeat me because of this." I reach out to take his hand and put it on my bare chest. It's a weird thing for me to do by this point, I work hard not to let anyone touch me in case Cas finds out somehow, but something about this kid has me breaking the rules.

"Wow," he says. "You have a strong heart."

"That's right. Keep your heart strong kid." I know I'm kinda full of it, but there's not much else I can give this kid.

He nods and backs away like he knows he's not supposed to be touching me. "Okay. I can do that. I do love my friend a lot. Do you have someone you love a lot?" He crosses his legs and sits with his hands pushed into the space between his body and his legs, like he's around a campfire, waiting for a wise old elder to share stories of old.

"I do." I don't think I can talk about Sammy, even to this little interloper. And I love Cas too, but I definitely don't want to pass on to this kid that falling in love with creatures that hurt you is a good thing. I leave it at that, and hope he doesn't talk about it anymore.

Thankfully he seems happy with that.

I remember last time he wanted to give me directions to where he is. He doesn't seem to be thinking of that now. Years Ago Me, would have pushed him for them, and jumped on my white horse to save him, but while I was able to save Bobby today, saving any old person I want is not something I can do anymore. Besides, kinda busy at the moment, all my eggs in the Sammy saving basket right now. If he's not going to remember to ask me, I'm not going to remind him. I think he just wants to hear stories tonight anyway. Looks in need of cheering up. "You want to hear about the time the dragon and I fought off a whole bunch of black-eyed monsters?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, but then you need to go back to, wherever it is you go back to. And for Pete's sake kid, don't ever come when the dragon is here, understand?" I don't know if he'll know what that means, but hey, he's the one who started talking dragons.

He gives a solemn nod.

"Okay, so once upon a time, the dragon told me we would need to find a very powerful item, but that we might lose our lives getting it…"

~SAM~

"Stop it Sam. Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Lucifer is one foot stamp short of a five year old throwing a tantrum.

I know what he wants me to stop, but it's near impossible. I look across the tent to Jack who's busy with a picture book I gave him to look through. The scouts say we are safe to move on today. Soon all the tents will be dissembled, and tucked away. It's nice when we can use grace to do such things, but sometimes, we have to do it manually. At least there are enough bodies it doesn't take too long.

It's a beautiful day, the sun shining through, getting warmer as we further distance ourselves from the cold place we live. "I'm trying, Luci, but it hurts my heart to see him like that." And thing is, I can feel he doesn't like it too. I'm not the only one who's changed over the years. Lucifer doesn't care about much other than himself, but he's got limits to that now.

"The boy has to learn, you said so yourself."

"I know. I'm doing the best I can."

"Arrrgh. Jack! Jack, get over here son."

Jack looks up from his book, suspicious of being called on by his father, but he trots over quickly, almost tripping on the way over. "You're going to be a good boy from now on, aren't you?"

"Yes, Father."

"And you've learned your lesson?"

"I have, Father. I will be more careful."

"Very well. You hear that everyone?" Lucifer says to anyone around to hear. "The boy has learned his lesson. His punishment is over, because I say it is." He grabs Jack roughly by his chin, and with a flash of grace, all of Jack's bruises are gone. "There. Now stop it, Sam. We'll be leaving shortly. Can't you wear better shoes than that? Just for a little while? Once we get closer, it will warm up."

I look down to the Birkenstocks, and my cold, bare toes. It's not a huge issue when we're not on the move. I sit near a fire, or under a blanket, or with Lucifer. But when we're on the move, it can get cold. I'm not properly dressed for the time of year by far, and I'm sure the only reason I don't have frostbite is because of the added grace running through me, healing me faster than what is regular for a human.

But most shoes are too confining for me, and as we get further away from Lucifer's Palace, I start to feel the tug of the creatures in the sea. _We aren't even that far yet. There's a ways to go._ Lucifer can sense it's already starting, he's trying to deny it to himself, but his actions show otherwise. He's actually trying to appease me.

I bite my lip not sure how to answer him. Of course I'd like better shoes, and truthfully, I could withstand them. I'd have a low-grade anxiousness burning in the background, but I could do it. Problem is, this is a building thing. The building on top of the increasing distance, each little thing making me go mad a little bit faster. "I could try a looser sort of boot, like a moccasin if that could be done?"

"I can get you whatever you want Sam, _whatever_ you want." He snaps his fingers, and an angel appears. "Dominic, create whatever sort of thing my mate wants for his feet, and if he's not happy, I'll have no more use for you. Understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And whatever you do for my mate, do for my son as well. Sam, I have a whole bunch of shit to tell people to do before we go. Kiss."

I lean into kiss his lips, and he yanks me to him close enough I can feel his length. I'm grateful we'll be on the move, and that he'll be otherwise distracted. _too fucking sore for more sex_

"Better?" he says referring to Jack.

"Much. Thank you, Luci."

When he's gone, and Jack and I are fitted with better stuff for warmth, I scoop Jack up and he curls into me. "How's my favourite boy?"

"Good, Sammy. I found a picture of a black dragon in the book. Did you know dragons can talk?"

"They can?"

"Yep," he says proud of himself. "Dragons are pretty fucking sweet."

"Excuse me, young man?" Jack says a lot of jarring things, and there's a lot of swearing flying around him all the time, and _sigh_ , I guess it doesn't actually matter, but I feel I have to instil some kind of _something_ for a little boy into him, even if it's just an illusion.

Jack winces. "Sorry?"

I appraise him. He hears that word all the time and has never said it. _Hmmm._ "Does your new friend happen to say that word?"

He nods, upset with himself already.

"I don't care who says it, you don't. Got it?"

"Got it, Sammy."

I brush his hair back, and sway him. Even with just having been healed, he looks tired. He must have been up all night. Sometimes Jack doesn't sleep, and I don't know if that's because he's Nephilim, or something else. Lucifer did tell me he doesn't need as much sleep as a human would, but I wonder if his sleep is on the lower side even for a Nephilim?

"Good boy. How about you close your eyes, and I'll keep you cosy with me 'till we go, huh?" He'll feel safer to sleep that way.

"Okay. Sammy? I love you."

"Love you too, Jack." God, do I. Wish I could take him far away from here.

I've still got Jack fast asleep in my arms when I feel that familiar tingle, Lucifer calling me through the bond. The camp is a symphony of commotion as everything is torn down. Some things manually, and some items with flashes of grace depending on who's doing the tearing down. Lucifer is working on something of his own, and for once, there's no angry edge to his smile. "Ta da! Look, Dreamer. I did this for you."

It's… a carriage I guess? Like what they'd have in older times. Large and black, with six horses attached.

"You like? There's lots of room inside, and it will keep you warm."

I'm shocked, and not at the same time. Like any Narcissist, Lucifer bounces from extreme anger, and other violent behaviours, to sweet, fun, charming, and happy, or at least appearing to be.

But his desire to keep me comfortable is genuine. It might be the only time he feels true empathy, if he can – when he's worried I'll go crazy.

I step up into the thing, a little hesitant. He'll still be pissed if I don't like it, and I'm worried it will be too small for my… problem. It's not though. It's got more than enough room I won't feel cramped, and therefore claustrophobic. I turn to him and smile. "Yes, I like Luci."

"There are blankets up here," he says coming up to show me around. "Light ones. You can take your boots off and be barefoot. Like the boots by the way."

It's easy to forget, in moments like these, when he's alight with shyness and seeking my approval, who Lucifer really is. It's easy to hope he can be like _this_ , that _maybe he can change._ I have tied myself to him for the rest of _my_ life, I can't help, but hope. I remember Dean always telling me nothing can live without hope, so I make myself hope, even if I know better. _Lucifer was wise to give me Jack._

"Thank you, Luci. They are all right, but barefoot is better, for…"

His face gets hard, and he nods. "Well, make you and Jack comfortable. We're leaving soon."

He moves to leave. "Wait, Luci, will you be joining us?"

I hate it. I _hate_ it. But, I _need_ to be near him. With everything starting, I need him more.

He knows. "I will join you, Samshine. Promise. As much of the journey as I can."

When he's gone, I make Jack and I comfortable in the carriage, and kick off my boots, sighing all kinds of relief.

When Jack wakes up, Lucifer hasn't joined us yet, and he's looking around in wonder. "Your father made this for me. We'll be more comfortable."

Jack seems pleased at the prospect Lucifer could have done something kind for me. He smiles. "Good, it's working."

"What's working?"

"Nothing," he says with a sparkle in his eyes.

Whatever it is, it's making him happy. "Is your friend teaching you magic too?"

"I think so. He's a pretty great guy."

Something about the way he says that brings me a wave of nostalgia. People used to say that about my brother. Dean was always head-strong, sometimes quick to react, and his temper often got him into trouble, but people always concluded he was, a 'pretty great guy' and would smile just like Jack is now, like his heart is filled with wonder and so much love he'll burst. _Just like Dean._

"Just make sure you continue to pick up your friend's good habits, and not his bad ones."


	7. Drowning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 19, 2019  
> _________________________________________
> 
> I finally did it for this story - a 5K chapter. I am so excited about this, you have no idea! 
> 
> Okay, real quick. It has come that time where I do my taxes again, so writing will be a little slow. As you may have already noticed, writing has been a little slower in general these days if compared to my massive writing stint from end of December to end of February. 
> 
> My art tends to come out in various ways, and if you follow my blog, you know I am also an artist. Instead of sketching, lately, my art has come out as various makeup looks. This may not sound like art at first glance, but I tend to do some very artsy stuff that can take up to 3 hours *shocked face*. It's been a lot of fun and I get as lost in it as I do my writing. 
> 
> But this does not mean I'm not writing. I am, it's just slower, but so is the way with things. My creative muse does what it wants. Will someone please send Cas to spank it, and tell it to behave?
> 
> I explain all of this because I do get worried messages sometimes, which are very sweet -- people concerned about me. I am so lucky to have so many care about me. But alas, I am okay, fantastic even, and am having the time of my life with face art :)

~SAM~

_When Lucifer first took me, I could have left him no problem. Even with being exposed to his manipulations, in the beginning, I could have worked my way through them eventually. Even years after he took me, while it would have required help, it still could have been done. Things are different now. It's been too many years of Lucifer's manipulations, and I'm not sure there's anything strong enough to pull me out. He has me wrapped in a mental hell so deep, I don't know where I begin and end. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure, I'm not still drowning out at sea._

_The helpless look in Dean's eyes, as I was pulled away is etched into my mind forever…_

~**~

"Dean!"

"Sammy!"

My arm is broken, but I fight until there are too many. Dean and I are huddled behind the Impala, cornered. We're out of bullets – not that they do any good against angels and demons – and there are too many for us and a couple of blades. Dean's scared, which makes me scared. Dean's never scared.

"Sammy. Hey, Sammy? We're gonna be okay, promise. It's gonna be all sunny days in the grass, the working on my car, pie…" He winks at me.

And then I feel their hands on me. "No!" I struggle, and I search for Dean. I meet his green eyes, and can't bear the helpless look there. Dean's always looked after me, felt responsible for me, and in this moment there's nothing he can do. I feel more for him than I do for myself. I want to tell him I'll be okay, but I have the worst feeling. This is different than any other kind of trouble we've got ourselves into.

"Shoot, him," Lucifer says.

"My Lord, you said we could have our way with him first?"

"Whatever floats your boat, but get rid of him after."

"Let my brother go," I demand, as they cart my brother off, Dean glaring daggers at Lucifer.

Lucifer slaps me across the face. _Hard._ I taste blood. "Oh no. You're going to learn that I make the demands, _Sammy_. That you obey me."

I struggle some more in the hold of the two demons who have me with an angel nearby to help if need be. I'm badly beat up, and I just may pass out from the pain with my broken arm wrenched as it is in the one dude's grip. "Go to back to hell, Lucifer."

That sets off his rage. He's seething, his eyes glowing a strange mix of red and blue. He grabs my chin so hard, I wonder if he'll crush it. He could crush it. "You will not speak to me like that." He takes a few breaths, and I watch as he calms himself down. "He hasn't learned yet, he'll learn," he says to himself. "Ease off of him guys, his arm's broken."

 _What?_ That's confusing. He suddenly cares about my arm after he slapped me enough to draw blood, told me how it was going to be, and oh let's not forget, he's having my brother executed.

It is nice having them ease off though, and when I can breathe better, I get straight to telling Lucifer how it's going to be. "Whatever it is you want from me, you're not getting it, so you can just kill me now."

Lucifer smiles at me with a dangerous edge. "I am going to kill you Sam. I'm going to kill _this_ Sam, the one you are now, until you are _my_ Sam."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It will. Time to go."

I don't know how I know it, but I get the sensation we're about to fly, and now that I'm a little freer, I strain to look to see what's become of Dean, to maybe see him one last time before maybe I die, but I don't get anymore looks at Dean; he's gone. The demons have taken him somewhere to do something to him, and I can't see him, nor can I help him. _I can only hope he somehow manages to get away._

In another flash, we're gone.

~**~

I spend a week in a room, a beautiful room, but one that I know is my prison. I haven't been harmed in any way; in fact, I've been fully healed and treated like a prince. I'm served food I didn't think existed after the apocalypse, and someone is by to check on me once every couple of hours. The only belongings I had were the clothes on my back, but I've been given similar style clothing, while my stuff was being cleaned, and when my stuff is clean, it gets put back into rotation.

Lucifer comes too. He visits me, and acts like a long lost best friend. 

"Hello Sammy. Looks like you're enjoying the books I had put in here for you?"

Yeah, that. This room has been waiting for me for some time, which is creepy. Somehow he knew to stock it with books, and books I am interested in reading. It's like he did research on me, or something. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm not allowed to leave this room."

"You're not," he says enjoying that. He stares at me exactly as one would when they've finally caged something prized. "Once you are better behaved, you will be given more freedoms."

I don't know what he means by 'better behaved', but I can guess it's got to do with obeying his every word, and I can already guarantee him that I won't be doing that. I would rather die first. "You should just kill me now. I'm never going to be the thing of obedience like you want."

He laughs, loud. "Oh Sam, kill you? It's far too soon for that. Besides, I have no intention of killing you, especially when I have so much time. I think you underestimate me. You will be obedient for me. You're going to be the perfect mate."

"Mate? No way. There is no universe where I'll say yes to that."

He is undeterred. "Not now, but eventually. Are you aware of angel-human mating practices?"

"I've read enough to get the general idea."

"Would you like to read more? Here." With the wave of his hand, more books appear on the shelves. "Unfortunately some of those books are in Enochian, but I am happy to translate for you. I am also happy to have someone teach you Enochian." I don't want anything from Lucifer. He can see that on my face. "Well, if you change your mind then. For now, I have come to spend the afternoon with you. We shall have tea." Lucifer snaps his fingers; tea and scones appear. "From the kitchens."

The last thing I want to do is have fucking tea with him. It's not hard to ignore him like a teen would a parent, remaining on the bed to read my book. I never got to do this to my parents, but being that I'm still only twenty-one, even if I've got more wisdom than is typically gleaned by my age, I've got enough young-person-stubbornness in me to pull it off.

Lucifer catches on within seconds that I'm simply going to ignore him. "Change of plans, instead we're going to commence with your first lesson. Sam? When I tell you what we're going to do, we're going to do it. I am fine with forcing you. Hopefully you'll come to learn it's much better just to obey me." With his powers, he lifts me up, and slams me into the chair where he's got tea set out. "Now then, I've got choices for you. I can restrain you, I have many ways to do that, but I would prefer a more civilized tea. I'd like you to eat, and drink something. Will you behave, or do I need the restraints?"

There's no 'choice' about this, it's a Lucifer version of Would You Rather – the game where you pick what you hate least. I really don't want to tell Lucifer I'll behave for him, but I want to be restrained even less. I'm already at his mercy, being tied up is another level of helplessness I'd like to avoid. "I will behave."

"Good. Then put something on your plate, Samuel, and get some tea," he says, but there's bite behind it. It's a clear, _do so or else_ order. Feeling the rage in the room build, and instinctively wanting to calm it, I put a scone on my plate, and pour some tea adding a little cream and honey. I take a sip as he watches me. "See? How hard was that, Sam?"

"What do you want to talk about?" I say, avoiding his stupid question.

"I have a proposition for you. Now that the world as humans once knew it has ended, and angels rule the Earth, it only makes sense that we need a ruler for the angels."

"I thought that was God?"

"The operative word being _was_ Sammy."

I wish he'd stop calling me that. "Isn't he going to be a little pissed at you for stealing his gig?"

"Father isn't here. He left this place a long time ago. If an apocalypse isn't enough proof of that for you, I don't know what is."

"It's not God's job to solve all our problems."

He slams his hand down on the table, and I jump. "I'm not here to discuss Father with you. The fact is my brothers, and sisters need a leader. I am the eldest; it is my right. I am only claiming what's mine."

"And I fit in by becoming your mate?"

"Yes. You will rule by my side."

"Rule by your side? Don't you mean at your feet? Besides, I'm a boy, I know that. I know nothing of ruling anything."

"Yes. That is how things are _now_ anyway. But in time we will come to trust each other. You will see my ways and agree with them. You will age and become wise beyond measure. All of this has been foretold. We have merely to mate to get the whole thing started."

"Even if all of that is true," which I highly doubt, "that's going to be a long time coming."

"Time does not mean the same to angels as it does humans, I can wait."

"I'll say it again, and maybe you'll hear me this time. I don't see any universe in which I mate with you. You're the creature who had my brother…" my voice cracks, "…who had my brother killed." I don't let Dean creep into my thoughts much, at least not yet. I spend the majority of my time working on what I know Dean would want most, me escaping Lucifer. _Then_ I'll mourn. Right now, it's too painful.

"Oh did I not tell you? Your brother is alive. Didn't kill him. Nope, not dead, not dead at all."

"Not dead?"

"Demons, they are a kinky lot. They tried to do some things to him involving a tree, and some handcuffs. He got away."

That does sound like Dean. He's pro at getting out of handcuffs. Still, he could be lying. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Either way, it's no thanks to you if he is alive. I'm just supposed to forgive and forget?"

"Good news for you. I've just granted Dean a lifetime of safety from me."

Yeah, because I can trust that. " _If_ he really is alive you mean."

The conversation is more of the same after that. Him trying to convince me to rule the world with him, and me turning up with snippy comments that make him grind his teeth, and ball his fists, holding anger back.

After that he doesn't return for a month.

I spend my time forming an escape plan. I've already learned that the room is shrouded in magic. I figure out the only opportunity available to me is when my food is dropped off. That's when the door is opened. If I can over power the two angels who accompany the human bringing my food, I can make a run for the door. I don't imagine it's going to be as easy as that, but I've never been anywhere, but this room. It's not the best plan, but it's the only one I've got.

I don't even make it out the door to the room, but I do get Lucifer's attention, and he finally returns. I did not miss him. "You tried to escape. We have to talk about this. Sit."

I don't bother resisting. It's a waste of energy since he'll just make me anyway. I _did_ learn that lesson. I sit in the chair where we, apparently, talk. There is no tea and scones this time. "I have to say, I expected it. Truth be told, I was surprised you didn't make an attempt sooner."

He's oddly calm and accepting about the whole thing, which leaves me with no explanation as to why I'm shaking. "O-o-obviously, I would try to escape. I don't want to be here."

"Yes, well, I get that, I really do Sam, but here's the thing, it won't look good if I don't punish you for it. It's still disobedience. You understand, right?"

"Would it matter if I said I didn't?" I'm not going to agree with him, but if I do get that's how his rules work. That's how _he_ works.

"It wouldn't, but I would like to know you are getting an understanding of the rules here."

"I get the rules Lucifer. When you're disobeyed, you punish. It's pretty standard villain stuff."

"I love that you think I'm the villain."

"So what will it be? The rack or the chains?"

"Chains." He snaps his fingers and like that, I have gold cuffs around my wrists, and my ankles. There is enough slack in the chain between them I can walk, and do stuff, but it is going to be annoying as hell.

"This it?" I say.

"I could beat you I suppose, but this is good for now."

He leaves again, and I don't see him for another long while. After three months in a room, in chains, with nothing but my own thoughts to spin around in my head, I do start to crave company. I try talking to the person who brings me food, as well as the one who brings me other items like bed sheets, fresh clothing, and toiletries, but they've obviously been instructed not to talk to me apart from asking me what I need, and responding to other need-based-type requests.

Multiple times, I've tried breaking the windows, the walls, the stupid door that bars me in the room, but nothing bends. The magic sealing this place is strong. I am hating the chains, which I've been wearing for months. I can't stretch enough, which you wouldn't think would be as huge an issue as it is, but it makes my body constantly ache, a low, chronic pain that's beginning to drive me batty. I can't even take clothes off myself. Someone has to come in and help me every morning and every night, so they can remove the cuffs, allow me to change, and replace them.

Even with all these inconveniences, I remind myself that Lucifer said Dean went free. I still have no proof he's not lying, but the hope he could be free keeps me going. I distract myself thinking about Dean driving away and hiding where Lucifer can never find him.

I know better. If Dean is alive, there's no way he's not trying to find every clue of my whereabouts, and making his way to me. Part of me really does want him to stay far away, give up on finding me, live as good a life as he can in the _After_ , but the other part wants my big brother to come save me. I feel selfish as hell about that, but I already want out of here, more than I want a lot of things.

Finally Lucifer returns, and I'm genuinely overjoyed at the prospect of someone to talk to. I can't believe myself. Is that all it takes for me to break? A few months in chains? He doesn't have to direct me to sit this time. I do so of my own volition. He notices and smiles taking his seat in front of me. "I've missed you, Sammy."

The Sammy still makes me cringe – only Dean calls me that. "Where have you been?" I demand.

"I see you've missed me too."

I admit I'm happy to talk to someone other than myself, but I haven't missed _him_. I seethe. "Are you ever going to take these off?"

"I could be convinced to remove them if you asked me nicely, Sam."

"Will you please take these off?"

"Really? You can do better than that."

"How would you like me to ask you?"

"Next lesson. If you want anything from me, you can get on your knees and beg me for it," he says, his voice going hard.

"The chains are fine," I say with my own version of hardness. I can feel the tension in the room build the same way a lightning storm does.

"Maybe it's too comfortable, is that what you're telling me? Maybe I should have secured your hands behind your back. Maybe then you'd be thanking me for being kind enough to leave them in front where you could have access?"

My flippant ways are getting to him the same way being locked up in this room is starting to get to me. "I-I am grateful, Lucifer," I don't want him deciding to restrain me more, "I appreciate it."

"Prove it. On your knees, and thank me."

That's when the deviousness of his manipulations hits me. He could have done anything with me when he brought me here. The villains in most stories chain their captives up in cold dungeons, beating them to bloody pulps, starve them, and treat them like the scum you scrape off scum. Lucifer's way is different. He only confined me to this room providing all other comforts for me, showing me he's willing to give me most things, but that that he decides what I'm given and what I don't. It embeds, more significantly, how much domain he has over my life – right down to the fine details.

But, I'm twenty-one, and bravely stupid. "I repeat, you might as well kill me. I'm not giving into you for anything."

"Kill you? Let's get something clear. I am never going to kill you Sam. _Nevvver._ We may not yet be mated, but that doesn't make you any less mine. I am keeping you forever, and you _will_ obey me eventually, if you want to make things difficult that's your choice."

"I will die one day, and then I will be free."

"Perhaps. For now I'm working on a little something to make you as immortal as I am."

"You're not immortal. You can die."

"It's a spectrum Sam. I'm far more immortal than humans are."

Whatever. This is a pointless conversation. "I'm not thanking you, or getting on my knees for you."

"Suit yourself." He snaps his fingers, and my wrists are behind my back with no slack between them.

"How am I going to eat like this?"

"Not my problem. There are also many other things you won't be able to do like that Sam."

He disappears, and I know he won't be back for a while – who knows how long? There's never been any consistency to how long he goes away, but what I can count on, is that he's the only one who can grant me mercy from anything.

Being imprisoned by Lucifer, torn away from my brother (and not knowing if he's alive or dead to boot), has not put me in the mood often, but I'm a young male, and build up happens, and I get horny. I start having all kinds of sex dreams that have me humping the mattress, trying to get off, but it doesn't work, and I'm just more horny and agitated during the day.

And he was right. There are many things I need hands for I took for granted when I had full access to them. I can't use the washroom on my own without having to call for someone. I have to eat directly from my plate, like a dog would unable to use cutlery with my hands behind my back. I can't pull a book off the shelf (and tried) let alone turn the pages of books anymore, so I can't even bide my time reading.

I keep reminding myself that things could be a lot more miserable, since I know what Lucifer's up to, but it doesn't change that I had got used to things as they were, and if I can't have all my freedom, I at least want my hands back.

It's a month of misery, but he returns. I hate that I perk up like a dog whose human has returned, and worse, I'm sure I have the eyes of a misbehaved puppy. He's not as jubilant as he has been. I feel the change in him as soon as he arrives. Things aren't going to be as relaxed as they have been during his visits, I can tell. There's an underlying edge to him that wasn't there as constantly before, as it is now. He looks at my chair, wondering why I'm not sitting in it yet. I jump to get there, but it's tough walking with my hands pinned behind my back. It can't sit properly in the chair either.

"I grow weary of this behaviour, Sam."

"I grow weary of the same conversations we keep having." Why oh why do I say stuff like that to him? That's a Dean line. My brother practically raised me, I'm blaming him for that. "Go ahead, do your worst. Chain my feet together. Make it so I have to piss my pants. Starve me. Hurt me. I'll never give into you."

His look darkens. "You know what I keep telling myself when you act, so disrespectfully?"

"What pray tell?"

"How much sweeter it's going to be when you finally do cave."

I roll my eyes. "Look, we done? I have important business to take care of. My day's booked."

He exhales an annoyed breath. He pats his leg. "Okay Sam, I didn't want to do this. I wanted things to be amicable, and without terribleness, but you leave me no choice." He snaps his fingers, and I'm confused when I'm released from the cuffs. My hearts starts beating wildly. What's he going to do? "Follow me."

He starts walking out the door. "Aren't you afraid I'll run?"

"Try. This place is crawling with demons, angels, humans who are loyal to me. Would be fun to watch."

Fuck him. I do try. I get beat to fuck. I end up battered and bruised by the time we reach the ocean. "What… what are we doing?" I ask out of breath, and in pain, all of it worth it to attempt an escape – made me feel alive again, the blood ran hot in my veins like when Dean and I worked together.

"I'm going to enjoy a lovely afternoon. You're going to drown in the ocean."

"Drown? I thought you said you weren't going to kill me?"

"I'm not, but that doesn't mean I should have to suffer you when you're like this. I'll keep you someplace where I always know I can come look at you, a place you can't escape."

All of that sounds worse than anything I could have imagined. I start to get scared, and lose some of my bravado. "H-how can that be? When humans go under water, we drown."

"Not here. Don't worry, you'll see," he laughs, "you'll sea… get it?"

He isn't funny. "How long?"

"Maybe forever. Take your clothes off. Take them off now, or I'll rip them off you," he says when I don't move.

I take my time, with trembling hands, and remove my jacket, t-shirt, jeans, boxers, and socks. I wasn't wearing any shoes. I leave my things in a heap on the ground and shiver as the cold sea air bites me.

"Quit stalling, and go… unless, you want to show me how obedient you can be?"

I must look as terrified as I feel. But maybe there's some way out. Maybe I can escape whatever will pull me under – I assume there's got to be a something – and I can leave this place. "I would rather drown forever than spend another minute here with you."

"So be it, Sam."

I walk bravely toward the ocean. I ball my fists, and turn to look back at him a second. He's got an odd look on his face, like he doesn't want me to go, but that can't be right. If he didn't, why do this? If he cared at all, why take me from my brother?

As I walk into the ocean, I think of Dean. His face. His green eyes. _…sunny days in the grass…_ The look of his eyes last I saw him flashes for me too, and I hate it. I move forward till my bare foot touches the water, and that's when I can hear them. Something else is in the ocean – many something elses. They cry out at me, warning me to turn back without saying the words, yet that is what I understand.

I don't know how to tell them I can't go back; I can only go forward. I take another step, and another until I'm waist deep. The water is cold, and instinctively I know I have to keep going. _Oh my god, I'm going to have to drown myself._

I breathe hard, and exhale several times gathering strength. The ocean waves hit against me, but they're not enough to pull me under, until I reach a point where I can no longer touch the ground. A big wave sweeps over me, and pulls me under.

~**~

Suddenly there's no more light, no more sound, no more air, no more anything. Instinctively, I try to reach the top of the water, but the weight keeps me under. That above all else, the crushing weight on me, surrounding me, the sensation of someone standing on my chest, not allowing me to get a breath, is the worst of it. I'm stuck here unmoving, unable to draw a breath, but wanting to badly. I want air more than I want anything else in life, or death – if I can't have air then let me die. But I don't die and I'm suspended in nothingness unable to breathe, the horrible feeling of lungs filled with water, and forever gasping for that one breath.

I know I should die, but I don't die. I live on and on, suffering. _Eternal suffocating._

Time doesn't pass quickly down here in the cold, dark, unbreathing place. If anything it passes slower. Eventually, I do start calling for Lucifer in my mind, hoping he can hear me, and that he'll come for me. _He's the only one who can save me from this place._ But he doesn't come, and I know days, months pass, before he finally does.

~**~

My whole body's dripping when he pulls me out of the water, and I take several deep breaths; the air burning my lungs sweetly, as I try to pull it in too fast. _I want more, more, and more._ Air has never felt so good. "Easy. _Easy,_ " he says.

 _He_ helps me back to my rooms, and I have to lean on him for help. He's gentle as he helps me redress. I'm not quite myself, I don't feel I've returned to the land of the living yet. _I can still hear their cries._

I start crying, and I do the unthinkable, I curl into him, and he holds me. "It's okay Samshine. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

But nothing is fine. Something happened to me. I'm different than before. _Fractured._

"H-how long?" I say when I've warmed up, and I've stopped crying.

"Four months." That's a far cry from forever, but it still felt like too long. "I missed you, Sam, but I won't hesitate to put you back there if I have to. Next time, I may not pull you out."

I latch onto him, scared he might put me back this very moment. "No, please."

I can feel him smiling above me. "It's okay _my Sam_. You're going to be well behaved, aren't you? No more stubbornness. I don't see any reason I should have to put you back there."

I nod.

"That's not good enough, Sammy. Say, yes my lord. That is how you will address me. _Say it_."

I learn I still have fight left in me. My ego rears up, but I know what's implied, and this combination of how good it can be, how bad it can be, is fucking with my head. The longer I hesitate, the more he begins to crush me by holding me just this side of too tight, and it reminds me too much of being in the sea. _Drowning, suffocating, crushing._ It's all too much for me to bear so soon, and I give in. "Y-yes, my lord."

He releases me. "Good. Very good, Sam. You're learning." He smoothes my hair back, and presses a kiss to my forehead. I don't care what he does right now, I just don't want to be put back, I want to be warm, and I want to focus on breathing. Having him near me is too comforting to let go. I remember that he's the only one I'm allowed to talk to here, or touch, or interact with in any way beyond, "Mirdra, I need more towels."

We lay on the bed a long time, he moves to leave. "Please don't leave me." I can't believe I've said it myself.

"Leave you? Never. Come," he says hopping off the bed and reaching for my hand. I realize now the door to my room is open and has been this whole time. _He intends to take me out the door._

"But…?"

"Aren't I going to lock you in anymore? Don't you need chains?"

"Yeah."

He shakes his head. "I don't think we need any of that anymore, do we, my love?"

I bite my lip, and shake my head. "No… my lord."

"See? Come."

I do consider telling him to fuck off. To go fuck himself. But a chill goes through me; I'm still not quite right. _Will I ever be again?_ I can't fathom not being near him for a second. Slowly, I slide off the bed. I take his hand, he smiles at me, a smile that warms the part of my core still starving for warmth. I'll fight him another day, for now, I follow him out the door.


	8. Home for a Minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 31st, 2019  
> _____________________________________
> 
> As I keep saying, I _try_ for 5Kish chapters, but it seldom works out that way, even if I think it does. But this one is "only" 6K, so I feel accomplished! 
> 
> I do have a whole bunch more written for this story though as I have had to write ahead. So I have at least another chapter done (I just need to edit) and another one that is 3/4 done. 
> 
> For updates I'm going to update WW very soon. And The Marriage of Dean Winchester series soon. 
> 
>  Actually, for WW, the chapter upcoming was written about 1.5 years ago. But once again, I've reached a point where I just feel like I might need to write ahead and when I feel things in my bones like this, I've learned to trust that sensation -- it's never been wrong yet on anything in my life, so got to hold onto it to make sure. Hopefully I'll be able to post soon. 
> 
> Love you all, hope you enjoy this one. Took me awhile to sort a few bits out. Worked hard on it for you <3 
> 
> Love,  
> Mocky

In the morning, Cas isn't as sweet (if the word can ever be used to describe him) as he was the night before. I was asleep, and the boy thankfully gone, when he returned, and I wake up next to a ball of bubbling lava. "Um, Cas? Have you changed your mind about killing me?"

"No, but you need a good dose of discipline, and it scratches at me under the skin of my vessel. Get dressed, and then we have to move."

"Just beat me already then Cas." Jesus Christ. I don't want to walk behind him in a mood like this.

That's how I found myself over his knee. He set to spanking me, just with his hand, but Cas's hand is an implement in and of itself, and it leaves bruises. "Whatever happened to needing me at full strength?" I say through tears. It's only my ass, but it hurts. Cas is good at always making things fucking hurt.

"You'll be fine."

When he's done with me, it's a good thing we're walking, because sitting is a distant memory.

As I'm repacking my pack, I can't help, but wonder out loud. "If that's what happened from me being _taken_ , what would happen if I left you?"

_I say some stupid shit sometimes, some really fucking stupid shit._

Cas grabs me by the throat, and slams my head against the wall. There are several moments where I can't breathe. "C-Cas," I try, but nothing comes out. I grab his hand with both of mine, but it's as good as trying to remove stone. Just before I'm about to pass out, he lets me go.

"You're not." It's the simple truth.

I fall down, choking as my body gets air too quickly. "I didn't mean I actually would, Cas," I say when I can breathe again. I grab my pack, pouty, and continue repacking it, as he stares murder at me. "I was only curious as to what the bond would do then." I can't help the feeling that comes over me though. It's fucked up, but I _like_ knowing Cas will never allow me to leave him. I don't know I'd go as far as to call it comforting; it's more a thrilling sort of feeling.

"I can't say what the bond would do, that much will have to remain a mystery. I can tell you all about what I would do, and how you would live to regret it."

A dose of that thrill goes through me now. Somehow that's right for me.

When I'm ready to go, Cas instructs me to kneel in front of him. He tosses something in front of me. "Put that on."

I reach out to grab it. "Is this a dog leash, Cas?"

"And the collar," he says daring me to say something about it.

"Where did you get it?" is all I ask, taking it in hand, and clasping it around my neck. No I don't like it, but arguing with Cas never does me much good. It's thick, brown leather, clearly made for a larger dog.

"Found it in a drawer."

_He doesn't have to act so smug and proud about it._

When I've got the collar secured in place, I attach the leash, which is long and's got a loop at the end. Cas opens his jacket, and begins undoing his belt. "You may stand," he says, and I do, and when I am, he loops the leash onto his belt, and then secures it.

"I can't help wondering how practical this is, Cas, if we're headed into dangerous territory."

He tugs me forward, as I grab my pack on the way out of the house. "You'll want to make sure to keep up," he warns me, without responding to my wonderings. There's a bit of slack, but not a lot, which means me falling on my knees a whole bunch at Cas's break-neck pace. Already I hate it.

He does get his point across though; don't disobey him.

I do get the answer some time later, after hours of travel. He stops, and unlatches the leash from the collar, and then his belt instructing me to put in my pack for later. _Joy._

"You will need to be able to roam free now, but you are not off the hook," he says.

"Is that supposed to be a joke, Cas?"

"If you like."

He's enjoying this way too much. Thankfully I don't suffer the leash long, but Cas wasn't kidding when he said dangerous. All the way to Balthazar's Community, it's rogue demons, and deadly creatures, and terrain that even Cas has some trouble traversing.

When we finally get to Balthazar's I'm beaten, and battered and bruised, but Cas doesn't let me take one step toward the gate without reattaching my leash. "Aw c'mon Cas, it's been a week. I've learned my lesson."

"You have not, but you will. C'mon." He tugs at the leash and I fucking hate it. Bobby better damn well have gotten away somewhere good.

We don't have to pull out ID in this place for the human at the gate. I've never been here before, but somehow Cas is well known. "I thought communities didn't get started 'till after we mated, Cas?" I whisper to him as we stroll through.

He raises his brows. "Shows what you know. I helped put this community together long before I met you," he says proudly.

I squint at him. "Were you one of Balthazar's angels?"

He squints back, annoyed, his look saying he's one hair away from busting my ass right here. " _Was._ He is my elder brother, after all."

So is Gabriel, I don't say, but Cas doesn't seem to have the same level of respect for Gabriel as I can feel coming off him for Balthazar. _Why did he leave this place and go all Jack Reacher?_

"I expect you to be on your best behaviour," he says.

"I will, sir." _Jeez._

I can keep up with him perfectly, tethered to him as I am, now that he's not walking at his breakneck pace, but I can't help the nerves building in my stomach; like I'm the boyfriend come home to meet the family. It doesn't make sense, I've met plenty of Cas's family already, _what's different this time?_

Cas heads straight for the large, palace-like building, which he also walks into like it's home, and he receives many hearty welcomes, which he returns with curt nods. The recipients look to feel lucky he even acknowledged them. _What the fuck? He's like a celebrity around here. Do we know the same Cas?_

Come to think of it, this probably is a palace. Angels. They are so extra. Cas wasn't kidding when he said Balthazar had particular tastes. Everything is carved from white and cream stone, with black accents. It's like a fancy vampire lives here.

Cas tugs me along with the stupid leash when I stare too long at a carving on a wall, or the detail in the iron banisters. We both glare at each other, but I'm the one who bends of course, following after him like a good little mate should.

We have to head deep into the palace, and I stop looking around in favour of keeping track of where we are. There are so many twists and turns, it would be really easy to get lost in here. Or take someone prisoner and have them never find their way out.

Finally we get to an open place that looks like a garden in the sky. Two large doors open for us to a room with a grand view of the entire community. In front of the windows stands an angel, tall, thin, and beautifully dressed, almost pretty. His hair is long, blonde waves, and his outfit keeps with the fancy vampire theme; long white jacket, to his thighs, with a sharp collar, and over-sized cuffs, gold neck scarf, white pants, and even a white and gold cape.

He turns and smiles at us. "Cassy!" _Cassy?_ I look at Cas who looks embarrassed as hell. "You're home." _Home? Is this Cas's home?_ "It's good to see you, little brother." Then they hug. That's right, _hug._

I have entered the twilight zone.

"Good to see you, Balthazar," Cas says all fucking formally.

"Who is this we have here? I have heard word you'd taken a mate Castiel, but I had to see it for myself to believe it," he says in an accent that's thick and very British. "Come. Come closer, Dean. I want to see the face of the man who's captured my brother's heart."

His heart? He's exaggerating, but it's worth it to see Cas further embarrassed. _I am enjoying the fuck out of this._ Of course, I hide that little fact not wanting to hear about it from Cas later. Remembering I'm supposed to be on my best behaviour, I step closer to Balthazar. "Pleased to meet you, sir." I don't extend my hand, as would be humanly customary. I can already tell how much Cas reveres his big brother, but enough to let him touch me? I doubt it. It would feel weird at this point anyway.

I can feel Cas get a bit defensive, but he's trying to control himself. "Don't worry, Cassy. I won't touch him." Cas relaxes, as Balthazar walks around me, appraising me. "You're good for my brother. I approve," Balthazar says. He looks to Cas. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I assume this is not just a social visit?"

"I need something from my vault." Cas's voice is extra gravelly.

_His vault?_

Balthazar nods, as he watches my every move with curiosity, which is weird – I'm not doing anything special. "But you will stay for a night or two? Have dinner? I'll have them make something special for Dean." Balthazar is gentle with his words, but he's not really asking. I pick up on his authoritarian nature. It's subtle, but to someone like me, I can feel the power of it pouring off him. He's the kind that rules in a light-hearted way, but don't mess with him. You won't know he's getting his revenge until you're already dead.

From Cas's expression, and what I feel coming off him, I can tell he wasn't planning on staying the night, but he's not about to disappoint, or I should say _disobey_ his brother. "Of course."

"Good. Leave us then, get your item, I want to speak with Dean, privately. I _won't_ touch him Cassy," Balthazar assures him again, when Cas hesitates. "I know what Gabriel did."

Cas nods.

"Will you remove that? I want him unhindered," Balthazar says referring to the collar and leash set up around my neck.

Cas twists his lips, but removes them – which I'm not sorry to have a break from. "Thank you. I'll send him straight to you when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

Whoa. I've never heard Cas call anyone, sir. I start to get a bit nervous seeing that interaction, but when Cas is gone, I can feel Balthazar's excitement at getting to chat with me one-on-one, and I relax. _He really has been excited to meet me._

I think I'm going to get the 'hurt my brother and I'll hurt you,' speech, but that's not the direction he goes at all. "I'm going to go ahead and assume Cassy didn't tell you about his last mate."

I still can't get over that they call him _Cassy_ here. I wonder how many lashes that would earn me? "He said it was a thousand years since he last took a mate."

"Something like that, yes. Castiel _hated_ him."

"Hated him? Why did he take him as a mate then?"

"He thought it would be a good match, one Father would be proud of him for – that's typically how Cassy picks his mates."

Now that I get. Cas is always hot to trot for pleasing his father. "Poor bastard must have been beat to hell a lot."

"Quite the opposite, actually. Castiel disciplined him when absolutely necessary, but other than that spent as much time away from him as possible. He certainly didn't mark him much."

Huh. "Time away? How could they?" Cas and I physically can't be away from the other long without one of us – or both of us – going crazy. Even with him away from me now it's uncomfortable. Itchy.

"They didn't have a bond like yours, it was more than possible for them to be away from each other."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm amazed. The experience was so awful for Cassy, he vowed never to take another mate again, yet here you are."

"Look, I swear I didn't do anything terrible to him."

Balthazar laughs. "Like you could. That's not where I'm going with this, Dean. What I'm enjoying is, Castiel did this for himself. You're something he wanted."

"Okay, maybe I didn't do nothing. I might have hounded him some, but that's it, I swear."

He laughs some more. "I know Castiel well, I raised him – by human definition, you could call me his father, ours was always a bit absentee – which means I know there's no one and no thing that could make Castiel do something he didn't want to do. He wanted you Dean from the moment he saw you. His desire of you had nothing to do with Father. You're probably the furthest thing from what _he_ thinks Father would want."

"From what he _thinks_ Father would want?" Cas seems to know him pretty well.

"Castiel only has ideas from the little time he's spent with Father, and the rules he knows Father likes us to keep. He doesn't actually know what kind of a mate Father would pick for him. Nevertheless, this didn't stop Cassy. His mates have always been chosen with Father in mind, until you. Well done."

"You're happy to see Cas go rogue?"

"I'm happy to see Castiel making his own decisions. He was always the most die-hard fan of Father. Wants to make him proud."

It's hard to think of Cas as not making his own decisions, but I get what he means; I've watched Cas idolize Father for years.

"You're very special to him, I can tell." He gestures to my body, the one filled with marks, the ones Cas tried not to leave, but couldn't resist. Cas has been easy on me, for Cas, but that doesn't mean he hasn't added things to my body each day. It's just kinda what he does.

I blush. _Cas's dad thinks I'm special._ "Um, thank you, sir."

"Please, Dean. When we are alone, and in more, familial situations, you may call me Balthazar."

"And have Cas, kick my ass?" I arch a brow at him.

"Fine. When we are alone, then," he says with a big smile. "I think you will find though that Castiel is a bit more relaxed when he is here. There are very few people and places he trusts; he has both here."

This conversation finally clicks for me. "Are you worried I'm gonna stop loving your son?"

"He can be… difficult to get along with," he admits. "But Cassy is happy with you. I'd like him to stay happy."

I grin. "You do remember mating bonds are for life, yeah?"

"I do, but as was the case with Cassy and Alexander, it can be a long stretch of unhappy years."

"Don't worry, Chief. I love that feathery ball of lava, even if he can be a huge dick. Uh, but don't tell him I said that."

Balthazar laughs at my frankness. "Good. Make yourself at home here, Dean. You may call this home too now. You are Castiel's mate – his home is your home. For now, you'd better go find him. If I know him, and I do, he's already getting agitated."

I nod, because he's right, that's exactly what I can feel through the bond.

"It's been a pleasure, Dean. I'll see you at dinner."

~**~

At the end of a long hallway, a few twists and turns from the room we were speaking to Balthazar in, Cas is leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed, and one knee bent, sole of his right foot pressing against the wall. When I get close enough, he grabs me by a wrist, slams it against the wall effectively pinning me, and then ravages my lips until I'm a panting mess. He smiles. "Come."

He grabs my hand, and we walk through the dark hallways. Cas wasn't kidding. Balthazar has interesting tastes that don't at all seem to mesh with his softer side. All this goth, vampire décor made me think he'd lean more emo. Things get brighter again, as we leave the deep bowels of the building, and we head back and encounter a more Grecian theme, which looks like an inside courtyard, only we are actually outside now.

There are miles and miles of cream stone walls with pictures and words carved into them in Enochian. Some look new, and some look centuries old having faded under the scorch of the hot sun, and other elements they would be exposed to. Cas brings me to a specific one, and stops before it reaching a hand out, indicating I should give him mine. I place my hand out to him, and he grabs either side with both his hands, rubs it, and then kisses the top. Then, he threads the fingers of his right hand through mine from the back of it, the palm still exposed. "Take a deep breath."

I do with no idea of what he's going to do. Not because I trust Cas _not_ to hurt me – I trust more that he will – but I've surrendered to him deeply in our time together. I accept whatever he's going to do to me. I take a deep breath, and he presses my palm into the stone. I know well the feel of grace now, seeping from his hand, through mine, and to the stone. It stings like a mild acid is flowing through me, and I hiss, but I bear the pain until Cas releases my hand, and we are both left staring at the dark handprint there, that slowly fades to the colour of the stone, looking like it was carved there. "Cas?"

He looks it over touching it where it sinks into the stone. "When an angel takes a mate, he can add his mate's marking to the family wall. It will have a magical signature that's yours."

"What, so like I’m in the family tree now?"

"Yes."

I take a closer look moving my hand over the palm print next to it. I can tell it feels like Cas. "That's you."

"Very good," he says.

I frown. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

"You said you've had several mates."

"Not since we built this place," he answers too quickly.

Makes sense, but something doesn't feel right about that. Some of these stones look too old to have been put up only after the apocalypse. I don't mention it though, but I am curious. _Maybe I can get some info out of Balthazar?_ I can't resist a tease in on him though. "This mean I get to call you Cassy, now?"

As expected, Cas gives me his deepest frown. "Thanks for reminding me, you need some discipline. Let's attend to that, shall we?" He turns heel, coat flaring behind him.

"That a no, Cas?" I say following.

"That's a, ever call me Cassy and you will live to regret it."

He's not kidding. I decide to stick with Cas.

Cas leads me to a place that's way the hell on the other side of the palace. "What the fuck, Cas? This a kinky sex dungeon?"

"No. This is a training room. It's a place for angels to discipline their mates."

All I see is a whole lot of whips, and chains and restraints, though when I look more closely, the people being lashed don't look to be enjoying it all that much. Cas already has his coat off, and slung over his shoulder; he looks in his element here. Meanwhile, my nerves are fraying a bit. I knew this was coming. What I did is a huge _no_ and Cas doesn't care about the why. He might understand, but that doesn't mean he's going to be okay with it. That's a big thing with him.

_This is going to fucking hurt._

I'm so wrapped up in my terror, I don't see the instrument Cas asks the guy at the counter for (yeah, there's a fucking torture implement counter) and I try not to look at it as Cas leads me over in the direction of a lone post. There's a whole wall behind it with cuffs and chains and rope. "Get undressed," he says.

As usual, when I'm nervous, I talk. "W-w-what are you going to do, Cas?" I say as my trembling fingers reach for the bottom of the tank I'm wearing to pull it over my head. And no, nothing's changed from before. I don't need to know what he's going to do, and I'll surrender anyway. It's just small talk. He's not going to tell me 'till he's good and ready anyway.

He doesn't answer my question, instead placing his implement of choice down, hanging his jacket. He begins rolling up his sleeves, which I have to watch for a second. No matter how many times Cas beats my ass, watching him do that never gets old, or less hot.

I don’t know why I bother to get worked up. The punishment is going to happen, I'm going to survive it, life will go on. _Because it fucking hurts._ Oh yeah, that. The other thoughts do calm me enough, I get through taking my clothes off. There are other people in here facing a similar predicament as I'm about to, but my brain is drowning them out, focused on my own problems.

Cas's eyes are dark. "Come," he says, and I obey moving closer to him, and the large post he's standing beside. He chooses a set of cuffs off the wall, and attaches them securely to the hook embedded in the post. "Face the post, hands up."

I want to protest, and tell him I'm sure I can get through whatever it is he's going to do to me sans restraints, but Cas gets what he wants in these matters, and as he's told me time and time again, if I want to misbehave, I don't get to pick the method of discipline. So I raise my wrists to the cuffs, and let him bind my hands.

"This is going to be severe, Dean. Disobeying me, especially on the matter you chose to disobey me, is a severe infraction."

We've been over why I did what I did, there's no point in bringing it up again.

"We must uphold the law, at all costs."

"Couldn't the law be changed, slightly? Instead of death, how about, like a whipping, or something?"

"I don't make the rules, Dean."

"We could consult with, Father."

"You're being preposterous." Cas picks up the implement he got over the counter pharmacy style. "Have you ever seen one of these before, Dean?" He holds it out for me to inspect.

No I fucking haven't, good god, what _is_ that? "No sir."

"This is a cat o' nine tails. It's my favourite," he adds gleaming. Well he can fucking gleam for now, but he's leaving that thing here when we leave. It's scary, and I have a good feeling the once is going to be enough. "You know I don't prefer severe discipline, but I'm going to enjoy this Dean. Three hundred."

Wait, what the actual fuck? "Cas? _Three hundred?_ Please don't." I start to panic, especially feeling helpless chained as I am to the post. "That's too many."

"Nonsense. They gave far more to misbehaved men on ships."

"Yeah, in like, the seventeen hundreds or something. I admit it, we're not made of that kind of grit in this era."

"Well that is your punishment for your transgression whether you like it or not. Do you remember what I said to you before we performed the bonding ritual?"

Even if I wanted to forget, I couldn't. I've had to repeat it enough times. "You said there would be lot of things you'd tell me to do I wouldn't want to do, or agree with, and that I'd be doing them anyway."

"Yes. And you said you'd do anything, _anything._ But that's not true, as soon as something doesn't meet your version of morals, our contract means nothing to you."

"That's not fair, Cas. He was practically family." I know it's not the brightest time to get lippy with Cas but I'm not really being lippy, and I need him to understand that much.

"I do understand that, but it's not the point. Maybe this is beyond human understanding?" he says really pondering it. "There are laws of the universe Dean, and they must always be upheld. They are not pure laws, like the ones humans think they can live by, sometimes they are ugly, but they must be enforced. It's why angels must enforce these rules – only they are made for such things."

I do think about what he says, and try to understand him beyond my own personal feelings. As much as Cas can be a robot when it comes to following his father's rules, I have come to realize over the years that there are truths I don't expect buried within all the Angel-God stuff. It didn't have a whole lot of relevance _Before_ , but now? things are very different. It's worth at least the consideration.

"You might choose not to uphold our bargain when it doesn't suit you, but I will always hold you to it, even when … even when I might understand why you did what you did. I know he was family Dean, but he broke the law. He did so knowing of the consequence."

"I get it, Cas, I do. But, but… but I had to do what I did."

"I understand that too, Dean. It means you don't agree with the rule. You don't see the value in it, but that doesn't mean I'm not punishing you for it. You want to help your friend break the rules, then you can suffer in his place, and that's three hundred lashes with this."

Fine. "Y-yes, sir."

From the first lash of that god awful thing, I know this is going to be hell. "Cas, I know you have to punish me, but there's no way I'm gonna make three hundred like that." I frantically pull at the cuffs trying to escape, which of course, I can't.

"Stop that," he says continuing with another lash. His pressure is intense; he's not planning on making this an easy three hundred. "You can do it, you are strong."

I do try, but that fucking cunt cat is unlike anything I've ever experienced. I'm able to get to fifty without screaming my head off, but not in the quiet, graceful way Cas prefers me to accept punishments. I'm not sure I'm ever real good at it to be honest.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Cas. I'm sorry."

"You're not. You'd do it again. You don't regret it," he says laying down lash, after lash, after lash.

I might be a little bit regretting it. Not the part where I don't kill Bobby, it's just not in me, but I'm sorry I can't be a better mate for Cas, and hate his disappointment. Cas's words do make me think though, I am paying for a choice Bobby made. He broke rules knowing the consequences should he get caught, a deal I didn't agree to. Hell, it's just pure luck no angels happened by his house, and the only one that did had me with him. It wasn't Bobby's brightest idea, and I ended up in a, him or me situation. I don't _like_ having to disobey Cas – break my contract – and while I understand Bobby must have had his reasons, and didn't intend on me having to pay for his recklessness, the fact is I am paying for it. Had I been around, I would have at least tried to talk Bobby out of such a dangerous move.

Regardless, Bobby was clearly willing to take the risk, meaning he understands risk. He wouldn't have held me to saving his life if there was such risk to myself. _Sigh_ , it's a complicated situation. One, it's hard to feel just one way about.

 _Thawack! Thawack! Thawack!_ "Your deal is with me, Dean. Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, please… please, Cas." I'm crying, and my wrists are raw from tugging at them.

"You will honour your deal with me at all cost."

"Y-yes, sir. Please, don't hit me anymore." I'm crying. It hurts, oh god it hurts. How did sailors do this?

"Take a breath, Dean. We are half way."

Half way? I lost count. _At least he's not making me count._

When we reach the last fifty, I'm a mess. All grace and serenity long gone. It just hurts, and I do my best at not crying out too loud, but there is crying out, and it is loud. My back is bleeding down my legs, making the floor beneath me slippery. From the sound the lash makes, my back, and my ass, and my thighs can't look too good.

"You can do this, Dean," Cas almost coos. "You are strong."

"I'm sor-sorry Cas. I'm sorry." I mean it too. I am sorry. He kept his promise to me; I didn't keep my promise to him. This is where the bond starts to do funny things.

"Not quite. You haven't quite surrendered, Stardust. Give yourself over. Give the last fifty to me."

I nod in a sleepy way, a bit drunk with the bond magic washing through me as I surrender in my body and mind together. The more pain, the greater the level of submission required, the more submission, the greater the bond responds. I almost can't reject it, almost, but I can and Cas is right, I'm still resisting.

"C-Cas? I love you, and I'm all yours," I say feeling drunk. I mean it though. I love you is the thing I never say, but I do. I love Cas so goddamn much, no matter what he does.

"Are you trying to get out of the last fifty, Winchester? I assure you that's not happening." He seldom calls me Winchester. _Hardly anyone calls me Winchester anymore._ I guess I'd call that an endearment.

These intense punishments are an odd sort of thing. In human terms we tend to think you could never love someone and do _this_ to them, but it's different with angels. _He was rarely marked at all,_ Balthazar had said about Cas's last mate, the one he hated. It's a different sort of way to look at things, but angels really do believe they are doing a great service to the ones they care about when they hurt them.

Physical pain takes on other meaning to them.

It's in these moments, at the height of such pain, and connection through the bond with Cas, I grasp some small understanding of that meaning. One that may well be out of reach for most humans, even humans who bond with angels.

It could also be why Cas doesn't prefer harsher punishments. He likes to keep things business-like with discipline, there are far too many feelings at this height – Cas would have a hard time handling them.

I can feel his feelings, but that doesn't mean I can always decipher what they mean to him. We all attach different meanings to emotions.

The shift in headspace doesn't make the last fifty hurt, or wear my body out any less, but it does make them easier.

When it is done, I'm done. I have no voice left, I can barely stand up. Cas uses his grace to send the cuffs back to the wall, there to simultaneously catch me when the cuffs leave my wrists, and carry me away bridal style, not concerned about my blood getting on him – proud of it – letting everyone see as we travel through the Community how well he disciplines his mate, and that I belong to him.

The blood is a warning, to stay away from me, but also a sign of complete devotion that goes two ways; to me, and to him.

~**~

I feel like a truck hit me, and bruised, bruised all to hell. I can barely move, so I only open my eyes, and find two dark powder blue ones staring back at me. "How long did you look at them before you bandaged me up?"

"Until I thought you were losing too much blood," he says unapologetically.

He's so fucking weird. "Do I have any skin left back there?"

"You… do."

"But it's patchy, yeah feels that way. Jesus, Cas."

"You were beautiful, Dean," he tells me like he's just watched my ice skaing routine. "You're stunning when you're in pain like that. I did a very good job."

I laugh at him congratulating himself. It's fucking… cute. Laughing hurts. "If you say so, Cas. Cas? I don’t think I'm going to make dinner."

"You didn't. That was last night. It is postponed until tomorrow night."

"We're actually staying here more than a night?" We don't stay many places for more than that long. Only when absolutely necessary.

"You said you wanted a private bath."

"Okay, Cas. Like you ever stay because of something I want."

"You were unconscious, and Balthazar has refused to allow us leave until he's satisfied you're well enough," he says annoyed.

That's more like it. "Finally, a family member of yours with good sense."

"Hmmm, I think I missed a few spots on your thighs. Perhaps we should pay another visit downstairs, if you're still this lippy."

"Too far, got it," but I keep smiling at him. "I do like it here though, Cas. Maybe once we find Sammy, we come back here to stay."

Cas is stone quiet.

"Cas?"

"This is our home Dean, but we can't live here. We have too much work to do for Father."

I nod. Where he goes, I go. We're a package deal.

"We can visit though," he promises.

"What about Sammy? Can he live here?"

"Enough questions. Go back to sleep. When you are healed enough, I want to show you around."

"Where you gonna take me, Cas?"

"You don't listen very well."

"All right, all right. Jeez." I close my eyes and he runs fingers through my hair. Somehow, even with all the pain in my body right now, it manages to feel like I'm in heaven. "Cas, you're not going anywhere, are you?" I need him right now.

"I have nowhere else to be. Go to _sleep_ Dean."

Counting myself lucky Cas doesn't seem to be in the mood to chastise me more, I do drift off for real this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and I dunno if you guys are reading any of Outoftheashes's works, but I am LOVING her story Sympathy for the Devil if you wanted to know ;) The Cas in it is oh so entertaining. I love him.


	9. The Psychology of Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 1, 2019  
> ___________________________
> 
> I finished editing this chapter sooner than expected, so... here you go! Yes because I love you all *heart eyes* 
> 
> No this is not an April Fool's joke, and it's noon anyway where I am so it's over.

Sammy & Dean

"Dean, we've been driving for days. _Days._ You need sleep – will you at least let me drive?"

"No, Sammy."

Things aren't good. The angels won the war for the most part, but there are still some dangerous contenders gone into hiding to regroup. Human civilization as we knew it is gone. Disassembled. But Dean and I have never had any true home for long, except this car, and somehow we've managed to keep it.

He swerves suddenly. "Fuck. God damn fucking fuck dammit. Pot holes everywhere. Be useful and help me spot them, wouldja, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean."

Dean manages to drive another three hours before he _has_ to stop. "I need to sleep for a couple hours. Keep watch."

I don't question Dean by this point. His _hunches_ always prove worthy, but I want to know what's got him panicked. He hasn't spoke, too focused on driving to do any of that. "I will, but Dean, _please_ , tell me what's going on?"

There's no doubt Dean's running like a spooked horse, it's plain in his eyes, but he forces a genuine Dean-smile for me. "I will Sammy. Just, can we get far enough away? I'll explain everything. Promise."

I look at his young face. He's my older brother, but he's always had a cheery, little boy glint to him, despite his ever-present five o'clock shadow, which adds some youth to his gruffness. "Yeah, okay Dean, but you're worrying me."

He sighs. "Sorry. Just, let me sleep, we'll figure it out – we always do."

While he sleeps, I read more about angels. I've been reading as much as I can. We've hunted all kinds of creatures in our short lives, but we'd only just learned of angels a couple years back. Now they're our new overlords.

I wake Dean in a couple hours as promised, and he's up and off to the races again. "Your turn to sleep, Sammy."

"But you said—"

"—sleep first."

When I wake up, we're stopped in front of a giant tree that's laying on its side, roots gnarly and dead at the end of it, Dean trying futilely to move it. I hop out to see if I can help him, but we're not strong enough. We both slide down the back to sit against it, tired from our efforts. "What are we running from, Dean?"

He pauses. "I don't know how to tell you this, Sammy. You're going to think I'm nuts."

"At this point Dean? Nothing you say is crazy to me."

"Wait 'till you hear. I had a vision, or well I think that's what it was. Maybe it was more like a dream? I dunno. Something. Sammy we're being followed by Lucifer."

"Lucifer?"

Dean nods. "Yeah. He wants you."

"That's…" I'm about to say crazy, but I promised I wouldn't think that. "I trust you Dean, but how can you know for sure?"

"I _feel_ it with every fibre of my being. It's in my bones. I know it sounds fucked up, and insane, but it's there, gnawing at me, screaming at me to run. _Run._ "

"Do you know how close he is?"

"No idea. Just that we need to run until the feeling stops, or at least calms down."

"Why does he want me though?"

"Don't know. No details, just a clear message to get the fuck out of dodge. And now we're stuck here."

"Can we turn around, go another way?"

Dean stares off into the direction we came. He shakes his head. "No. We'll run into him that way, and we can't fight him. Fighting him is suicide."

"We can't run from him forever though, Dean."

"No, but maybe just long enough to figure out how to kill him."

"You know," I say smiling. "If you'd told me about this two days ago, I could have been researching exactly how to do that."

"Right. I always forget what a book nerd you are."

"You're the one seeing visions, Madame Trelawny."

"I swear to Christ Sam, if that's a Harry Potter reference…"

I laugh and then we just sit there. Our lives have always been hectic, I've learned to find peace in the little moments like this, when it's just me and Dean. I love being with my brother, my hero, the guy I've looked up to, learned from, all my life. I feel lucky just to have him beside me. Things might suck sometimes, but as long as we're together nothing's too much. We face the hard things together.

I can feel the defeat pouring off him. I want to help, my wheels spin; I get an idea. "Physics," I say standing up.

"Huh?"

"Grab that stick, and I'll grab this one. It will still require some strength, but if we use the power of lever arms, I think we can move this tree."

Dean positions himself where I instruct, and I head to just the right spot away from him with my large branch. I show him how to slot the branch in just so. "On my count, pry it up, and toward that side," I say pointing to where I want the tree to go. With a bit of grunting and groaning, we get the big tree moving. It takes a few goes to move it out of our path, but we do it.

Dean smiles like the sun. "So fucking brilliant, Sammy." We get in the car. "All right, for that, I forgo the usual rules." _Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole._ "What you want?"

"You know what I want."

"Oh c'mon."

I shrug. "You said."

We leave the big tree behind, and I do my best Real McCoy, until Dean bans the song from ever being played in his car again.

SAM – After the *before*, before the *After*

_It wasn't a thing that happened all at once. Lucifer was clever with the way he intermingled his softer actions, and his harsher ones. Of course, there were unplanned outbursts. Lucifer's temper was no match for Lucifer's control. When we have only a false sense of self, there is only the ego to protect the soul. Ego is easily riled, and offended, and resorts to anger like a flash of lightning._

_I'd never been the pleasing type, but now I had reason to please Lucifer: To avoid the hell of eternal drowning. Most of the time I didn't realize I was doing it; it was subconscious. My inner being screamed at me, at how wrong everything was, but I couldn't escape the fear of what he'd do to me, should I displease him. I couldn't escape how I behaved for him._

~**~

I can't stop shaking. Even if it's just my name, or a mundane question, I shake, and there's a constant buzz of fear spreading through my body like a swarm of angry hornets. I can't begin to guess at what will set him off, though I have learned a few of his triggers, and I don't know what will deem poor enough behaviour to send me back _there_.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Lucifer?" After several months of me answering with 'my lord', he decided he preferred some familiarity between us, since mates _should_ be afforded familiarly. Of course, we are not yet mated, and he hasn't talked about mating directly since the last time we did before he put me in that place, but he does talk about mating like it's a wedding we're in the process of planning together. He doesn't like to be argued with, so I don't say anything about it, and let him talk on – it's not like I have a choice.

"Why aren't you eating?"

The hair on the back of my neck tingles. I can _feel_ his anger. Feeling things other people feel is not new to me. Both Dean and I have always had some more advanced empathic qualities, but since the water, my ability to feel Lucifer seems heightened. I know why he's angry with me. I am trying to eat, but I have little appetite. At first he wasn't concerned, but now it's regular dinner conversation, and he alternates between cooing at me to eat, and demanding I eat.

It's not that I don't try. But my stomach is a knotted hell most of the time, wrapped in the turmoil of something akin to waves crashing – and I'm supposed to put food in there? It feels like it will be ejected. He wouldn't understand, and even if he did, he wouldn't be empathetic to my plight. "I am, I'm just eating slowly. My stomach is upset."

"You've pushed that food around your plate for the past twenty minutes, not even taking a bite." I have been doing that. Not that I think I can trick him, but moving the food around seemed like the best way to show interest, as I passed the time between bites. "Is there something wrong with it?"

I shake my head. "No, it's fine." I take a bite, a very small bite, to show him how fine it is.

He's not appeased. "Are you trying to starve yourself to death, Sam? Because I assure you that won't happen."

The thought hasn't even crossed my mind. Things are bad, but they could be worse, and if Dean is alive somewhere, he would get word of my death at some point. I can't do that to Dean. _I have to stay alive until I can see Dean again._ I set my fork down, and look him square in the eyes, for once only shaking a small amount. "I promise you, I'm not."

I don't know what it is about my actions that does it – and it really could go any which way with Lucifer – but he calms down, his anger fading to the low simmer it tends to live at. "Is there something that could be easier for you to stomach, my love? You need to eat."

I nod. "Soup, and some kind of crackers?"

"Yes. Yes, good idea." He snaps his fingers, and a little human runs over like their life depends on it. "Take that away from him, and have the chef prepare my beloved soup."

"Yes, my lord."

"See, Sam? Whatever you like. It's yours."

"Thank you," I say, not because he's suddenly proved it and I believe him, but to prevent him from getting angry.

"You do need to eat more, Sam. You've lost weight."

I've noticed, but I like the looser feel of my clothes, and I can't seem to care. "If the soup works, I will eat as much as I can."

"Good. I don't want to have sex with skin and bones."

All of that makes me tense. I only care what the thinks of me at all, because it's important I please him, and of course there's the sex part. I know that's in his game plan, and he's very hands on, always touching me. He's there so often when I wake up, laying next to me, or cuddled around me, I've gotten used to it, and worry when he's not there, that I might have done something to piss him off.

But I don't want to have sex with him. I know it's coming, and I don't know what I'm going to do about it. I can't help, but think the skin and bone thing might be to my benefit, maybe he won't be as attracted to me, but I have to be careful thinking things like that. I immediately abandon the idea worried he's going to slip inside my mind and find out I've thought that. "I will eat as much as I can Lucifer," I assure him again.

This seems to finally appease him, as if I've just agreed to having sex with him.

The soup works. My stomach likes it, and it's delicious. I eat it like a normal person, and Lucifer notices. "Trevor? Please make sure whoever's brought my mate-to-be such delicious soup is rewarded generously." Lucifer's smiling, and he watches me like it's the best day of his life.

Eating is only hard though; sleeping is impossible.

I can't sleep without Lucifer. Not yet, and not well.

Going without sleep isn't an option, I'm already running on too little. Lucifer's had to use his angel mojo more than once on me.

That night, when he sends me to bed, I hesitate when he doesn't automatically come with me. "Something wrong, Sam?"

He knows what's wrong. _He_ did this to me. He wants me to say it. "A-Are you coming?"

"Nah, don't think I'm going to," he says, and shrugs like he's indifferent.

"What do you want?"

He snaps his dark eyes on me. "I'm insulted, Sam. You think just because I don't do something for you, I want something? I do have a life aside from you."

"No, that's not—"

"— _don't_ lie to me."

I say it, I'm scared to say it because I know it will anger him, but it feels worse lying to him, and thinking about what he'll do when he finds out. I let anger seep in, my own false protection. "You always lay with me as I fall asleep," I make myself say. "The only reason you're not now, is you want something from me, what is it?"

"You think I have nothing better to do than to lay with you?"

"You know what? Forget it. I'll be fine." My frustration leads me to saying stupid things. Doing stupid things.

When I move to leave, he's there, he grabs my arm, and it doesn't take much of his angel strength to throw me and pin me to the wall. I can't move, stuck, and at his mercy. It's not unheard of for Lucifer to slap my face in a way that feels more like a brick hit it, or choke me 'till I forget I'm not in the water, or throw me around the room like I'm a fucking baseball. _Any one of those things is better than going back in the water._

I try to control my breathing as he seethes in front of me. "I'm starting to think you're only good for looking at," he says, and I tremble. Only good for looking at, _under water._ "You've become too much work. Won't eat, can't sleep unless I tuck you in, and you won't even suck my damn cock for all my troubles."

 _That's what he wanted. Sex stuff._ I can't shake my head, or even speak. A lone tear falls down my cheek.

He rips open my shirt, ruining it. _It happens to be one of the few things I brought here, the shirt on my back, one Dean gave me._ He starts undoing my jeans, yanking them down, and even if there were something I could do about it, I wouldn't, I'd just let it happen, because yes, even sex with Lucifer isn't as bad as going back in the water.

But that's where he stops, and releases me from the wall. I fall on my knees, hard, my pants around my ankles, shirt in tatters falling open. "Get out. Get out of my sight."

I don't wait for him to tell me again, clumsily grabbing at my pants, tripping, and almost falling on my face, as I try pulling them up, only partially succeeding, while running at the same time. _Need to get out of here._ But I make it out of there, and escape to my room, grateful that's all that happened, vowing to myself to find a way to seem more useful to him in the future, in a way that won't involve sex, and a whole host of other things I know he hates about me now – unable to eat, unable to sleep properly without him. Too much work.

I get ready for bed, removing my jeans and ripped clothes, but storing the t-shirt in a place I don't think anyone will look, _Dean gave it to me, and I'm keeping it._ I climb into bed in a fresh t-shirt, and underwear, and give a shot at falling asleep on my own.

I slow my breathing, and try to remember how to meditate. But I can't seem to clear my mind like I'm supposed to, all I can think about is Dean, wondering if he really is alive, if he's safe, and if he is, how far along he is in trying to find me. Because I'm near collapse, I do fall asleep, but it's fitful, and riddled with psychologically terrifying situations. _Like being under water, trapped, never getting out. Trying to move, can't move, can't breathe, can't scream._

When I start awake from nightmares, he's there. I don't even think about it, I clutch him, _grateful_ he's calmed down enough to be with me again. I don't want to bring up what happened. I know he won't forget about it, not with this photographic angel memory, but if I don't mention it, I hope he won't.

"I'm here, Sam. Get some sleep."

Is that supposed to be an apology? I know it's not. I also know I need sleep, so I do that. I sleep deeply, my subconscious knowing he's there, and knowing he's there means I'm really _here._

In the morning, I wake up in his arms. "L-Luci?" I don't mean to say it like that. I'm half asleep. My body tenses. _Fuck. What's he going to do about that?_

I'm surprised when I feel him smile against my forehead. I don't care what that means, I'm just grateful he's showing any amount of kindness, _interest_ in me. "Luci, huh? Yeah, okay. I like that. I like it a lot. You'll be my mate at some point anyway. It's permissible. And I stayed all night. All night, Sam."

The way he rambles on, reminds me of a socially awkward guy in high school I knew for a the short two weeks Dean and I went to that school. The kid thought I was cool, and was thrilled that I was talking to him, and seemed to want to be his friend.

It's the first time I feel a pang in my gut for the angel. Is Lucifer some misunderstood, awkward teen?

Oh God, I can hear Dean now. I always did find a way to explain someone through psychology, and I'm _not_ doing that now exactly, but fuck if it doesn't feel better than resigning myself to a psychopath.

It has been a year. _Over_ a year, and no sign of Dean, no sign of anyone we used to know, no sign of ever getting out of here. I haven't given up hope that escape is a possibility, but I know it's not anytime soon. Maybe… maybe Lucifer's got a better side to him? One I can open up, and appeal to? Maybe he'll give up on this once he realizes what he's doing, and set me free? Yeah. That's it. Get him to understand. See my point of view.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I slept well." I force a smile, as I yawn.

We lay together, me cuddled up to him, as I wake up more. He drags his fingers along the naked skin of my shoulder, and arm, back and forth, back and forth. After several rounds of that, his fingers carry down my chest and abdomen, making a circle around my belly button. "I want to touch your penis, Sam."

I knew this was coming at some point, but I'm surprised as hell he's asking. And young as I might be, I know it's not really asking. I'm a captive under duress. My only real option here is to prolong the inevitable.

And there's something else.

I hate myself for it, I'll hate myself forever for it, but as much as I don't want to go down this road with him, I want him to stop touching me even less. I've read about this syndrome enough to know I'm in the thick of it – that thing where you feel affection for your captor. And while I wouldn't exactly call what I feel for Lucifer affection, there is enough addiction present to make me need him.

All humans have six needs; love and connection, contribution, variety, significance, certainty, and growth. If three are met by a person, or a thing, that forms an addiction. I'm definitely there. Like it or not, Lucifer is my source of connection, and significance, and while there's not a great deal of certainty in this situation, being with him is the only certainty I have. Being here, means I'm not _in there._ Currently, that certainty is more valuable to me than any other.

"J-Just over my boxers?"

"Yes just over your boxers. I think I am enjoying the anticipation of this, Sammy."

 _Yeah, but for how long?_ I nod. "Okay then. You can touch it."

Slowly, Lucifer slides his hand down my belly then pause. He pauses for a whole heartbeat, and then continues to drag his hand along the edge of my length, swooping down and then up the other side. Yes I'm hard. I'm a male in my early twenties, and my dick is being touched.

Of course Lucifer doesn't play fair. He uses just the slightest hint of his grace, and I arch like a rainbow. "Did that feel good, Sam? Don't you dare lie to me."

"It, it did, but that wasn't fair. Or part of the deal."

"Deal? I don't make deals, Sam," he says, still touching my cock, stroking it now over top of my boxers. I bite my lip because yeah he's using his grace, _just_ this side of enough.

" _P-Please._ "

"Please, what?"

I honestly don't know. I'm so confused.

"You want me to make you come, my Sam?"

 _Am I already turning into his Sam like he promised I would?_ I remembering him saying that. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I've long got the idea. "No. Please stop," I find the will to say, but fuck do I want to come.

He stops using his grace, but keeps stroking my cock over my boxers. "That's fine, Sam. I can wait 'till you're ready."

"Let me guess, I'm not allowed to do it myself. Only you?" I'm wise enough to know that's how this stuff works.

"No. By all means. Touch yourself all you want. I doubt you'll be able to get one tenth of the feeling you just got from me. You'll beg me soon enough. I don't need to deprive you for that."

I'd like to tell him he's wrong, but I'm already coming to believe that the things he says do happen. In fact, when he's finally done molesting me, I'm half-wrecked, a hair away from just telling him to do it already.

When I masturbate in the shower later, it's with visions of his hand around my cock. Am I really that weak? No. No I'm not. I strengthen my resolve, the night of sleep boosting my confidence, the fear of becoming weak bolstering me. Lucifer is not pleased with my renewed defiance.

"I'd been putting it off Sam, but since you seem to need reminding of your place today, I think it's time for you to kneel at my feet for awhile – it's where you belong anyway."

"I'm not kneeling at your feet, Lucifer."

"It's _My Lord_ today. And yes you are. Do it now, or I will make you."

That humbles me some. I don't want to be frozen in place, which is what he means by that. I've never liked it when he's done stuff like that, but since the water, it makes me anxious, almost in a claustrophobic way. It's something I'd like to avoid more than kneeling at his feet.

So I do. I'm not gracious about it. I glare at him, and then the floor.

Suddenly his hand is in my hair, grabbing by the roots, ripping at it. I hiss. "I am not known for my patience, Sam. You will start behaving yourself now, or I will punish you, and you won't like it."

He doesn't say what the punishment will be… the water? I don't know, but I'm sobered, and don't say anymore than, "yes, my lord."

I spend the day kneeling at his feet. He doesn't give me any instruction; I don't know if I'm doing it right. I get breaks for meal times – which he doesn't want me to miss – and it's back to kneeling. My body aches, and my knees are sore from the hard flooring, but I don't fuss, or say a word about it, not wanting to let him win. My anger carries me through.

Finally, when the day is over, he tells me to rise, and it's a good thing; I'm exhausted. I hope this means I'll sleep tonight without him. I hate him now more than ever. I stand with shaking muscles, and wait for further instruction. "I see this has done nothing to cool you, Sam."

Sam. Not _my Sam._ That's something. I feel victorious. "No, my lord." My Lord isn't the respectful thing it's meant to be coming out of my mouth.

I can feel the rage swarming around him. He's seething with it. I've seen him kill for less disobedience than I've shown today. "This is to do with last night isn't it? You're angry that you liked what I did to you."

 _Damn him for being so tuned into me._ "Yes." I don't add the appellation. He doesn't mention it.

He smiles, his anger falling away. "Take your shirts off, Sam."

I lose all bravado. I know he gets what he wants one way or another, and there's something terrifying about him right now, something that is more terrifying than when he's angry: He's happy. Trembling, I remove my shirts. A tear falls, unbidden, from my right eye.

"Ah, there's my Sam. My broken Sam. Of course. I wish I'd thought of this sooner." He approaches me slowly, like a cat, and I squeeze the ball of shirts in my hand as if they can protect me. "God you're beautiful Sammy."

He glides a hand up my torso; I grip my shirts tighter.

He slips his fingers under the waistband of my jeans, and pulls me to him. He ghosts his lips along my neck. I cringe when he sucks his way up my neck, but I don't tell him to stop, and my stupid dick hardens. "It's okay to want me, Sam. You must know it's the situation I've put you in. I'm the only form of contact you're allowed, and you _need_ contact, touch, tenderness. I don't care if you love me, that's not a requirement for sex."

"M-Maybe it is for me."

"Maybe, now. But beliefs can change like the wind. Wouldn't it be better to have a belief that allowed you to enjoy this? I can make it good for you. I can make it so good."

I start panting. It does feel good, and I bet he could make it _really_ good. I'm overcome with need. Need for something that can consume me, and feel good, and distract me from everything going on around me. Living in chateau de Lucifer, there's no shortage of carnage.

When his lips get to mine, I feel the need to tell him no creep up out of my stomach again, for a just a moment before I shove it down, and move my lips to meet his. The kiss is powerful, unlike anything I've ever experienced, and it does exactly what I'm craving – it consumes me. Every cell in my body lights up with it, and I want more, more, more…

He gives me everything I want, somehow knowing every place to touch on my body to make it good, as he kisses me, increasing my need for him.

I've never been sexually intimate with any angel before, but I've been reading about mating rituals, and angels in general these days, the non-Enochian texts, and I know they have a tendency to violence in all things, especially sex. It's not uncommon for an angel's mate to lose a limb, which can be returned to them by their angel, but only if their angel feels like it, or deems it necessary.

Mating with an angel might be the one thing more terrifying than going back in that water. It sounds awful. The angel has more power over their human than often their human realizes.

But because I've done enough reading, I know that's the one thing Lucifer can't do without my permission. He can work to force my permission, but he still needs a direct 'yes' from me. He can't slip in a mating into sex without me saying he can.

Up to now, Lucifer has been surprisingly gentle with me, as compared to what I expect even with the small bits of violence I've experienced from him first hand. He's rough, yes, but I've seen him strip the skin off the backs of those who disobey him. Even when I've tried to stop him, while I might get thrown across a room, or slapped, even the odd punch, he's not been anymore rough than when Dean and I have gotten in a serious roughhousing battle.

As the kiss deepens, it ignites something I've been watching him hold back all this time. I feel it inside me. He grabs my leg under the knee, and wraps it around him, and then knocks my other leg out from under me. My back hits the ground, hard, but I don't stop kissing him. He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, and breaks away from the kiss so he can look down on me for several moments while I catch my breathe, before he nips and bites his way down my body. It hurts, and I cry out, but it doesn't occur to me to tell him to stop. Even when he reaches the button at the top of my jeans, and undoes it I don't think about it.

But that's as far as he gets, he stops himself, sitting back on my hips, peering down at me like I'm a wonder. He reaches down to push the hair off my face. "You're not ready for this."

What the…? Is he fucking kidding me right now?

He hops up, and reaches a hand down to me. "Come."

I take it, pissed in a different way than I was all day, more annoyed, but also feeling like a stupid idiot. "What more do you want from me?" I say totally exasperated, as I follow him to wherever he's leading.

"I want it all, Samshine."

"All, you said you don't need love."

"I don't. My definition of 'all' is not the same as what yours might be."

My pants are still undone, I don't bother to do them back up. "Then what is your definition of 'all'?"'

"I want you to need me."

"I…I… if I didn't need you already, I wouldn't bother at all."

He shakes his head. "Perhaps you need me to some degree, it's starting for sure, but I want you to need me in your bones. I want to be the air you breathe."

That's confusing. "Isn't that what love is?"

"If that's what you think love is, you're the messed up one, Sam. I know that's what some humans think it is, sure, but if you want to get real psychological, love is supposed to mean you don't _need_ to depend on another for the love they freely give you. To love means to love yourself to the highest degree possible, which would mean you wouldn't _need_ anyone. If you don't love yourself most, you can't love anything, or anyone. I don't want you to love yourself, Sam. I want you to hate yourself enough that you literally need me to provide a sense of self for you."

That's… horrible.

"I believe the term psychologists use is, co-dependent. That's what I want."

"Now that I know this is your plan, do you think I'll give you want you want?"

He laughs. "You don't have a choice, Sam. It's a simple matter of how humans are built. It's human neurology in its simplest form. I have but to do certain things, push a few brain buttons, so to speak, and wait. The best part is, it doesn't matter how much you hate me for it, I still get what I want. Hell, there might even be times when you think you love me, you might even fall in love with me. It's of little consequence to me what happens for you to that end. I've told you before, the more you hate me, the sweeter it will be for me. So go ahead, hate me, love me, either way, I win."

What's all the more frustrating is that I do hate him all the more for what he's telling me, which means he wins again. I go with silence. When we get to my room, he helps ready me for bed, like a child does with a doll about to be put back on a shelf. "Why me?" I ask. I've never asked this before, I haven't thought to, because this whole time I viewed Lucifer like every other mindless monster I've ever fought.

And while Lucifer is definitely a monster, he's not mindless, not in the least. I hate to give him any accolades at all, but he's probably one of the cleverest villains of all time. I've known this a good long time now, but with his most recent plan reveal, I'm understanding just how deep his calculations go. I'm not just some creature he took fancy to, there's a reason I'm here. Now that I know what's important to Lucifer, I am seeing his values. One of them is need. He needs me for something.

"Finally. I was beginning to think you weren't as smart as I thought you were." He snaps his fingers, and a book appears. He tosses it on the bed. "Read that. It will tell you everything you want to know."

"It's in Enochian," I say as I view the title, and then I roll my eyes getting it. "I'm gonna _need_ you to help me read it, aren't I?" I also see just how much his plans have already been working out. I already need him to get any sleep, I'm starting to need him for pleasure (whether that be sex or otherwise), I need him to know I'm here and not there, in the water – how long before I need him to know I exist?

His smile widens. "Good show, Sammy boy. Yes, you will need me, and I will gladly help you. You have but to ask." I quietly seethe, and he enjoys it. "Now, do you need me for anything else?"

This is his sadistic way of asking if I would like to ask him to stay so I can sleep. "I'm good," I bite out. I'm not, but fuck him.

"All right then, Sam. Goodnight."

Asshole. He knows I'm not going to have a good night.

I make it three nights. They are three sleepless nights, of tossing, turning, and the worst nightmares fathomable. On the third night, with a blanket wrapped around me, I pad through the palace in my bare feet searching for him. I find him in the library pouring over books – books written in Enochian – a glass of sorbi nearby that looks untouched. He looks stressed, and tired. Tired is an odd way for an angel to look, since they don't require sleep and therefore technically cannot get tired.

Lucifer likes to wear white dress shirts, and black slacks, with shiny black belts, and shoes, which is an odd way for the prince of darkness to dress, in my opinion. He does look good though; I hate how good, how _handsome_ he looks. Especially to me right now, when I need him so. The top few buttons are undone, and I can see his chest peaking through. His dirty blonde hair is badly dishevelled from running his hands through it so many times.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Sam?"

He's been less than pleased with me, as he's watched the rings under my eyes darken from lack of sleep, but he hasn't done anything much about it, committed to his waiting game. I take that as an invitation, and with soft footsteps, make my way over to him. I watch him work some more. It's late, probably close to three am if I'm reading the moon right. There aren't any time-telling devices here. Angels don't have any use for time in the way humans do. "What are you looking for, my lord?" I say being careful. He's been particularly violent the past three days, and while I've not experienced much of his wrath first hand, I know it's not off the table.

He leans back, and stares at me awhile, again looking like he's marvelling. He extends a hand out, and when it seals around my wrist there's a sharp tug, and then I'm nestled in his lap. I've spent three days fighting being here, but now that I am, I soak it up, exhausted from the inner battles, and the nightmares. The relief I feel is magical. "Why must you be so stubborn, Sammy?" he says running a hand through my hair, as I close my eyes.

I don't answer him, too spent to fight with him, but also too wound up to fall asleep. Besides, being awake, I can bask in the comfort I'm getting from being near him, which is the kind of comfort I used to get after swimming for a long time, and then sinking into the backseat of the Impala with a strawberry milkshake Dean would scrape together enough money to buy me.

He kisses my crown, and I feel something I hadn't noticed before, he relaxes too.

The sun is up when I open my eyes, and I see we're still in the library, but he's moved us to a long chair, where I'm curled around him, and he's laid back rubbing his thumb into the top of my hand. I'm also suffering an extreme case of morning wood.

Sensing I'm awake, he tilts my chin up, and kisses my lips unconcerned with things like morning breath. I do my best not to let my dick press into his thigh a little harder like it wants to. "Did you finish your work, Luci?" I ask.

"No, but I did make headway. You looked uncomfortable though, so I moved us here." _Why would he care about my comfort?_ He's smiling. "Well played, Sam. You got what you needed from me without having to ask." He says that like he can't figure out how I did it, genuinely impressed.

"It's not like I acted on some elaborate scheme, " like he is, I don’t say.

"I know you didn't. If you had there would be consequences. This was because of my own weakness for you." I would think he would be mad about something like that, but he's not. He's oddly blissful.

"You must need something really big from me."

"I do." He doesn't deny it.

Even though I don't want to ask him for anything, it's come time for me to find out what that big thing is. "Okay. I need your help. Will you help me learn Enochian?"

"Of course I will, my Sam."

~**~

But we don't get to the Enochian lessons right away. Lucifer is called away, which brings a curtain of anxiety I don't expect. "But why can't I come with you?" I ask, near begging, but not begging.

"Because I don't trust you not to flee yet."

"You've said so yourself, it's foolish to try. You've got sentries of demons, angels, and humans loyal to you. I won't flee. I'll stay with you. I can be good, I _promise._ "

"Nevertheless, you're a Winchester. Worse, there's still a second Winchester on the loose. I can only guarantee myself you can't leave this place at this point. Another time, Sam."

As time passes, distancing me from the time Lucifer had me toss myself in the ocean, I grow more confident that he won't throw me in there for just anything. I become less submissive. I let my anger at not getting what I want show, by storming off, or at least, I try to. Lucifer uses his grace to slam the door shut before I make it a step out. Even that doesn't calm me. I turn on him. "Let me out of here, Lucifer."

"Oh no, Sam. We don't behave this way. Come here."

I stand in front of his desk, my heart racing, the fear beginning to takeover, because I've gone too far, and I know it. I fake my level of indifference anyway.

"Have you read about the various ways angels discipline their disobedient mates?"

I have. It's a broad range though, a spectrum from the small and annoying, to the psychologically psychotic and physically gruesome. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. So then you understand that I am going to have to punish you for this."

"I-I-I’m not your mate," I make myself push out.

"Not technically, no, but that is just a mere technicality that will be corrected someday soon. Remove everything except your boxers."

I knew this would happen at some point, but the knowing doesn’t overshadow the experience in any way. I won't beg him not to though, and if it's to happen, I'm keeping some modicum of control by not doing anything that will force him to hold me down.

I can't stop the shaking though, the shaking that had finally stopped for the most part, but returns to me in times like this, when he's angry at me. I undress as he instructed, and wait in nothing but my boxers as he watches me. "Pass me that, Sam," he says referring to the razor strap on the wall behind us. He doesn't need me to pass it to him, it's a move meant to heighten the anxiety I'm experiencing. It works.

My father was a strict man. Truth be told, he was more a drill sergeant to Dean and I than a Father. He loved us fiercely – that I never doubted – but there were many a time Dean, and I saw the thick end of his belt. I am familiar with a good hiding. But the strap Lucifer has is a far cry from Dad's belt.

I give him the strap, not wanting to look at it for too long. "This is perfect, Sam," he says as he stands up, strap in hand. "I needed an excuse to mark you before I leave. I wasn't above inventing a reason, but I had a feeling you'd give me one yourself. So much better. Put your hands on the desk, and you'd better keep your ass high in the air."

I do as he says, trying my best at keeping my breathing under control. _It feels so cold in here – is it cold in here?_ But nothing prepares me for the first lash of his strap, even though it's over my clothed skin. He's hard, and as relentless as I've seen him be with everyone else. Part of me hoped he'd offer me some of the tenderness he sometimes does, but he doesn't. If anything he's harder on me. The boxers do nothing to dim the strap's cut, slicing into my ass like a hot knife in butter, and there's no hope of me not crying out, or even screaming. I'm sure everyone can hear me.

I foolishly think he's done when he tells me to stand up. I do my best at 'standing', but I can't contract any of my erector muscles enough to stand up fully. He appraises me as I stand there shivering, tears streaming down my face, sniffling the snot back up my nose. "I'm going to put some nice lines all over your torso, and you're going to focus on being a good boy, aren't you?"

I nod, not looking forward to more. "Y-y-es, my lord."

"Hands out."

When my hands are out, the golden cuffs from before return, chaining my wrists together, with some slack. He guides me over to the wall where there is a hook, and it's so high, I have to stand on my tiptoes to hook the chain over it. It's a terrible position to be in, not quite dangling, but not solid on the ground either. My ass feels raw, and burns. I can feel blood soaking into my boxers.

He's no different to my back, or my front. Lashing without mercy, and when he's finally done, and has helped me down, I am a bawling mess on the floor. I've never been through anything like that. It was more than _just_ the physical violence, though that would have been plenty all on its own, not knowing when he'd stop, or where he would lay another stripe (to a new place, or over a fresh welt?), and the pain just going on, and on, and building, and building.

"Go to your room, Sam. I don't want to see you just now."

That's the icing on this awful cake, being rejected in a way that feels like abandonment. He's the only one I can get any sort of comfort from here. It would almost be better not to expect any comfort from anyone, but knowing it's on the table, I want it. Crave it. There's also the shame of fleeing through the palace as I am. I don't care what the demons, or angels, or even the other humans think of me, but that doesn't mean I want to be seen like this. _Having acted out enough to be punished._

I'm full of blood, and everything hurts, but I manage to pull myself off the floor, and limp back to my room. I spend a long time after that laying on the bed, in pain, pulling myself together. I clean myself up some with the pitcher of water in my room, and a cloth, then pull the top sheet off my bed, and put it in the hamper. I manage to feel half-decent by the time Lucifer appears. Everything still hurts, but I'm not feeling as sorry for myself.

 _When you're in a position like I am, and your captor is any amount kind to you, even when you know better, the human heart hopes._ But I remember who he is by the time he's before me. "I'm sorry," I say, even though I don't feel he deserves an apology for anything.

"I know why you wanted to come with me Sam," _yeah, because his treatment of me's made it so it's hard to be without him,_ "but you can't this time. There will be a time in the future when I will permit you, even require you come with me."

"Yes, my lord," I say only looking at him for, as long as I have to.

I feel his eyes on me, staring, looking over my body. I put new boxers on – the others were only fit for the trash – but nothing, else after I cleaned myself up best I could without going down to the baths. "You look even more beautiful with my marks on you. I'm simply going to have to keep you marked up more often. Come, let's get you cleaned up properly."

I do go with him, because what other choice do I have? And I can't help it, I'm just glad he's not mad at me anymore.

Once I'm cleaned and dressed in fresh pajama pants, and back on my bed (which now has a fresh comforter), Lucifer climbs in with me. "How am I supposed to sleep?" I say into his chest.

"I can't babysit you all the time, Sam."

"But isn't that what you wanted, my lord?"

" _Careful._ While I would enjoy seeing you writhe under my strap again before I go, I doubt you would."

I shut up, but I still think he's a hypocritical bastard.

"And it is what I want, Sam. I want you to need me, it doesn't mean I'm always responsible to make you feel better. Feel lucky when I do."

As much as that's an asshole way to go about things, he's right. My state is _his_ fault, but it's become my responsibility. It's not right, and it's not fair, but if I always wait around for him to make me feel better, I'm going to be disappointed. "Yes, my lord." Still, I cling to him while he's here, soaking up whatever he'll give me.

"C'mon, Sammy. I'm not mad anymore. No need for such formalities."

"Yes, Luci."

"You know Sam," he says _too_ casually. "I could always leave you in the ocean while I go places."

I start to panic, but I don't want him to know I'm panicking, so I even out my breathing as much as I can with that terror running through me. "Why?"

He knows anyway. "You tremble at the very thought of it – how delicious. Why? I'm surprised you even need to ask. It's the one place I can be guaranteed you won't be causing trouble while I'm gone, not to mention how much I would love the thought of you suffering for me."

I won't do it. I won't beg him not to. _If that happens, I'll know there's no coming back from where I'll be._ The absence of begging out loud, doesn't make my hope he won't do it any less. It doesn't stop me from attempting to steer him away from that idea, even though I have no doubt he'll know that's what I'm doing. "I'll be good while you're gone. I can behave, Luci."

"You will," he says and his voice turns ice cold. "If you betray my trust, I even catch wind of you making an escape attempt, I'll have my people do it, and when I return home, I'll pull you out just to beat you, and then I'll throw you back in."

"I-I-I won't. I _wouldn't._ " I haven't thought of escaping this place for a very long time.

"You'd better not Sam, or this round of discipline will feel like a holiday."

I nod, unable to speak.

"Now that bit of unpleasantness is out of the way, tell me what you'll do when I'm gone. I already know you'll miss me."

Yes, but not in the way a lover misses his lover. "Probably a lot of reading." I know I won't be sleeping much.

"I hope you'll be ready when I get back, Sammy. I want to fuck you so bad, especially with my marks on you like this."

I've read about that. Foolishly, I didn't think he'd start that since we aren't actually mated, but Lucifer counts us as mated. _I can't imagine what that would feel like right now._

"Not to worry, Baby. I have to be careful how much I break your body for now, one of the many reasons getting mated should be top priority. I'm sure you read about the enhanced healing you'll get?"

"I have, Luci."

"Good. We'll discuss it when I get back."

I'm afraid of what will happen to me while he's gone, I'm afraid of what will happen to me when he gets back; I don't know which I'm afraid of more. But in between those two points in time, is right now, and I find peace in his arms, my body curled into his, breathing air, being touched with adoration, and need.


	10. If You Wait Around Awhile I'll Make You Fall for Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 7th, 2019  
> ______________________________
> 
> Oh god, another 10.5 K here. I really didn't mean to. I also didn't mean to make this story almost 100K in just 10 chapters. These characters are just so vivid. 
> 
> I was saying over on my website's blog that these characters are so real for me b/c a lot of it is metaphors for stuff that has or is happening in my own life. I may make an appendix for the themes at the end if I can figure out a way to do so. They might be of interest. 
> 
> I have been working on some of my other stories as well There will be updates for those soon! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Worked hard on it as always. It's kinda funny. Normally I'm like, OMG, this is gonna be too harsh, but for this chapter I'm all, "this might be too sappy for this story," ha! But I write what they tell me to and this is how they came out. So there you go ;) 
> 
> <3

~DEAN~

Cas is acting a bit strange. It's not a bad kind of strange, but it's… well I'm not used to it. We saunter through the dirt roads of the community, that's right a fucking _saunter_ , a pace I'm not used to with Cas. He has two speeds; fucking fast, and stupid fucking fast. I've never seen him like this. In any case, I'm glad for it. I am sore, and that's an understatement. My back feels like it's been rubbed raw with sandpaper. I wouldn't be able to keep his usual pace. "So, what did you want to show me?"

"Just… this." He spreads his hand out to everything before us.

Ah, he's proud of it. I can't believe I'm going to say this about Cas – probably a first and a last – but he's kinda adorable right now. Also, lots of people know him here. They keep attempting to engage with him, but he's not particularly interested in them. He does keep looking at me. "It's beautiful here, Cas," I tell him.

We keep walking, and people keep saying hello. Cas is disinterested, only giving curt nods, but people love him anyway. _Jeez. Humans and their hard-ons for angels._ Not that I can talk, I constantly have a hard on for an angel, but that's a different thing.

Cas isn't the only one people are paying attention to. People are very interested in me. To the nth degree. Cas is getting irritated, and while I'm marked up pretty good, which should signal to them I'm taken, I grab his hand anyway, the universal human sign for 'we're together'. "What are you doing?" he asks, but doesn't pull his hand away.

"Marking my territory. You're mine, Cas," I say and wink.

"Stop being absurd. You belong to me, Dean." He squeezes my hand tighter, and pulls me closer to him.

"That's what all my markings say." _That_ calms him down some. As we walk, hand in hand, I reach up to check the amulet is around my neck. It would suck to lose it after the beating I just got – 'cause that was a hell of a beating – so I'm keeping extra tabs on it.

I can't help thinking about how much Sammy would love it here.

We pass by a place that's got music coming out from it. Music I like. "Cas! Cas! Cas! Can we go in there? Oh please, oh please, say we can?" I try to drag him toward where I hear the music, but it's like trying to drag a boulder.

"It's loud in those places, and people _dance._ "

Not dance. What a crime… "That was this is about, Cas? You can't dance?"

Cas stares murder at me for about five seconds, oh god his eyes though – they're the most beautiful powder blue these days – and I freeze in a beautiful state of terror. He lets go my hand to swing off his jacket, and for a moment, I think he's going to take his belt off too – because Cas will discipline me anywhere – but instead he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and extends his hand out to me again. "Challenge accepted, come."

I take his hand and he whisks me into the place the music is blaring out of. There are tables inside, and it's basically like a pub. "Wait here," Cas says into my ear then yanks me into a kiss that has the whole place staring at us. _Fucker is marking his territory._ He leaves his jacket on a chair near me.

He heads over to the band, and they stop playing just because he's gone up there. Holy shit, Cas is requesting a song. The band prepares to play whatever it is Cas requested, as he walks back to me, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, both eyes on me like I'm fucking prey.

My whole body shivers in the best way, and I'm dead curious which song Cas picked. I hear the first rift, and I know right away. _I never would have guessed this one in a million years._ Cas waggles his eyebrows and pulls me onto the dance floor.

_What I like about you, you hold me tight. Tell me I'm the only one wanna come over tonight, yeah._

The song is by the Romantics, _What I Like About You,_ a very peppy song. And fuck me, Cas can dance, boy can he ever. He throws me around on the dance floor like a pro, and I'm pretty sure he's enjoying the hell out of it. It's a good song, and we get into it, I relax and let him lead – like always – and he effortlessly spins and turns me. People form a circle around us, fascinated, watching us fly like we've done it a million times.

I'm out of breath when the song is over; Cas pulls me over to the bar, and gets me a glass of water. "Wow, Cas. That was incredible. C'we do that again?"

He appraises me, thinking what I don't know, even with his feelings I'm not sure. Either way, his smile says it all. "Yeah, let's go do that again."

After the fifth dance, my back starts to protest too much, and Cas can tell. I have healed far more than a 'regular' human would with all the rest I've gotten, but I am not fully healed. "Come," Cas says. "Let's get you a drink."

"Really?" Cas doesn't let me drink. _Sammy'd like that._ Cas doesn't like how it affects human movement, and clarity. I still remember the fights we had about that one when he made that decision after too many times of seeing the way I liked to drink. Spoiler alert, I didn't win a single one of those fights.

"One. It will allow you a break from the pain." I tilt my head studying him. He doesn't prefer to allow me breaks from pain. "Don't look at me like that, it's a break, nothing more."

"Sure, Cas." He heads off to get me something, without asking me what I want; that's fine, I'm just happy to have something. I watch everything as he walks away, how fucking sexy he looks, how many others in here want him, how revered he is – all of it. Cas is different, like Balthazar said he would be. While I could never describe Cas as relaxed, he is more relaxed than I've ever seen him. On the road as we are, we can't take a break from being alert as hell.

"Whiskey?" I say when he returns. That's impressive during an apocalypse. The whiskey goes down as good as it ever did, and I savour it knowing Cas isn't likely to let me have another for a long while. Yep, Balthazar was right, Cas is different here. He's still Cas, Warrior of God, but I think he could become human here, if we stayed long enough.

"Come. One more song," Cas says pulling me onto the floor. It's a slower song, and we sway gently.

_I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of the right words to say… I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be, but if you'll wait around awhile I'll make you fall for me, I promise, I promise you, I will._

"You know Cas, a lot of this music is music I used to listen to. Would have been a cool thing to talk about. I love music."

"I used to have a Motley Crüe tattoo, probably before you were born," he says.

"Really? That's fucking hot, Cas." I'd love to see him with tattoos.

When the song is over, Cas leads me out of the pub, and back to the palace. He takes me to the baths, and then in the back to a _private_ bath. I'm in heaven. "Take your time. We're going to have dinner with Balthazar after," Cas tells me.

"You don't want to join me?" I say.

"Then it wouldn't be private."

"I don't mind, Cas. Besides, there are fun things we could do in here," I say waggling my eyebrows.

"I have a better idea. Enjoy your bath, and then come meet me in our room." It's kinda sweet, he keeps calling it our room, because this is my home too now after the whole hand-stonewall-engrave-y-thing.

"You're not staying?" If he's not getting in, least he could do is sit with me.

"You'll be okay."

I bite my lip. "I know, Cas. But… yeah fine." Yeah I'll be fine, but I don't like it.

"Besides, I need to speak with Balthazar before dinner." Cas once again proves how much stronger he is than me. He can initiate separating us, even if he can't bear it long. That he can do it at all without whining and whimpering like me demonstrates his will. _That kind of thing is important to angels._

He leans in to kiss me, and then leaves. I can't watch him go, so I look away. It's a fucking sucky feeling, and one that's stronger than it should be right now.

The bath is hot, and soothes my sore body. I'm pretty sure I'm healing the fastest I ever have, but there's still a great deal of sting when my welts hit the water. After a few painful moments, it feels good, and I relish in the relief. It's like Cas and I are on a short holiday, and I like it, but I think I get Cas on this one now, I couldn't stay here for a super long time. I would like to come back here from time to time someday if I can swing it.

When I'm good and fresh, I dress in the robe left for me (Balthazar's palace is as fancy as he is) and head back to Cas. "You know Cas, I find it real interesting you've got a bed in your room, since you don't sleep," I say as I wander in, and watch him fiddle with his things.

He smiles a smirk-y smile. "Beds are most convenient for intercourse."

"You said you haven't had a mate in a thousand years." Yeah, I'm jealous.

"Haven't had a mate. I haven't been a monk in that time. I've had lots of—"

"—okay, okay I get it. You don't have to go on and on about it." I push past him and lay on his stupid 'sex-bed'.

He abandons his task. "Are you jealous?"

I put my hands behind my head and cross my ankles. "Yes," I say without apology. _He does._

Cas likes my jealousy. I can feel it. He isn't wearing his jacket, I can see it's hanging on the hook by the door. He's also not wearing his blue tie, and the white shirt he is wearing has exactly three buttons undone. He untucks his shirt and starts undoing the rest of the buttons revealing the chiselled abs underneath.

Next, he takes off his belt and that does things to me. I would think I'd be traumatized by that thing at this point, but although I'm definitely cautious courting sessions with it, the shiver I get watching the process is a good one. A fucking delicious one. My cock is paying attention, real big fucking attention.

He puts the belt aside though, and I'm not sure if I'm happy or disappointed. I forget all about it, when Cas starts undoing his pants. I am so fucking horny. I can't remember the last time I had an orgasm. Aside from the whole Bobby thing, I've been very well-behaved – well, for me – in hopes I could earn that privilege back. I know Cas well enough to know that look in his eye, he wants to ravage me, and oh god do I want him to, but I don't know if I'm going to survive another orgasm-less sex session.

But if I know Cas, Cas knows me twice as well. "Would you like to come today, Dean?" He pulls out his cock, and starts stroking it.

"Like you wouldn't fucking believe, sir." I can't take my eyes off him. Sometimes, I think if I do, Cas'll disappear. _He doesn't always seem real to me._

He lets go his dick, and slips off his shirt. Now he's shirtless, with black slacks that are undone, his hard dick hanging out, and his hair looking extra messy. And the thing about Cas, he's got these lat muscles, the "wings" of the back, that just go on for days, flexing and popping as he moves.

He prowls over top of me, nuzzling his nose into my neck. "I know something about you," he says against my skin. "You _like_ danger. It turns you on. Literally."

"What else is new?" It's true. "It's a good thing you're always the most dangerous thing in any room."

Cas likes that. He reaches down to undo the tie of my robe, which falls open, as he kisses my mouth. I crane my neck upward, kissing him back with everything I have. "This is going to hurt."

"Hurt? Cas, what are you going to do?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be as thrilling, it wouldn't feel as dangerous." In other words, he's not telling me. "You'll feel, so good at the same time though, you won't care about the pain."

Cas's eyes glow blue. He's going to use his grace isn't he? The kind that burns. Okay, yeah, my cock thinks the whole thing is exciting, but do I? I'm not sure. My dick has always had a mind of its own. "Do I get a vote on this, Cas?"

"Sure," he says, as he backs up, and takes off his pants, tossing them somewhere on the floor.

"I vote for regular sex."

"I hear you," he says crawling over top of me again, "I understand," he sucks on my earlobe, "but my vote is I want to do my thing. Overruled."

"You're confusing the voting system with the courtroom system."

"Fine. I say yes, and this," he says grabbing my cock. "Votes yes. Two against one."

Fuck, his hand on my cock feels too good. "Yeah fine, just please… for the love of Pete, fuck the blazes out of me."

"Wasn't waiting on your permission, Dean."

I feel the familiar touch of grace creep into my body. This isn't the first time he's done this to me, won't be the last either, but I suspect something's going to suck differently, if he's all talk-y, talk-y about it.

It doesn't take long for me to figure it out, the welts on my body light up with new pain, when he pushes the grace further toward me. "Ahhhhh, fuck!"

Cas smiles, and muffles my cries by covering my mouth with his. When he touches my dick again, it feels, oh godfuck, it feels amazing. Better than, as he changes the feel of the grace, sending sensations to my cock that bring me close, oh so close to orgasm, alternating that with the pain, which has an odd sort of effect. The pain mutes the pleasure, but while the dangerous thrill of pain – _what will he do to me next?_ because nothing is off the table, and Cas can do whatever he feels like to me – arouses me, it's not quite the same arousal as what's happening at my cock, and I come down from the edge of orgasm just enough.

I arch into his hand, wanting the feeling to last and last, I know to enjoy that much rather than to hope for coming, even though he's eluded to it. When I'm panting, and begging, and screaming enough to please him, he presses a finger into my entrance, which is wet with my own self-made lubricant, slow as he pleases, sending just a hint of the same sensation he's been sending to my cock. That's almost enough to make me come, but I hold off, wanting to please Cas until he says I can – if he says I can. "Good boy," he coos. "That's it Dean, let go. Give yourself to me."

"I-I-I'm already yours, Cas. Mmmmm-aaaaahhh-uuuuhhhh…" I can't speak anymore. It's all consuming me. The pain, the pleasure, the touch of Cas, his very presence infiltrating all of me.

He lights up new pain in the welts of my back, as he sends pleasure to that deep place inside of me. I scream; he moans. "Fuck Dean, you're gorgeous like this. Maybe… maybe I should just keep you like this for days. Right here on the edge of pain and pleasure, 'till you go crazy from it, huh? Would you like that?"

Yes, no! …yes… fuck, I don't know. Would I? That would be agony, and the very thought terrifies me, because Cas would do it, of that I have no doubt. Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter what I want, all that matters is Cas. I have one life, it's mine, and I choose to love Cas with it. I may have given up a lot of choice in bonding with Cas, even if I begged him for it, but love is not a requirement of angel-human mating. Love is my choice, and I choose to love him. Love is not about what I want, but what who I love wants. If that's want he wants, it's his. His needs are my needs. I give him my real answer, and not just what he wants to hear. "I want whatever makes you happy, Cas." _I live to love you. My life is yours._

Cas stops everything to stare at me for a heartbeat, and then positions himself over top of me in a swift motion, slamming his cock into me, using his grace through his cock – which is fucking awesome – and making sure I can feel the pain in my body he left almost two days ago. "Come for me, Stardust."

And do I. I don't remember when I last came. Of course Cas has made sure to milk me and keep my junk healthy, but it's not an orgasm, in fact, for me it's almost worse than no orgasm. But this is a fucking orgasm and I needed all of it, just how he did things – with the pain and the pleasure, the thrill of danger – to get here. It shoots outward, and through everything, the bruises, the welts, my cock, my heart. It's the best orgasm, ever. I scream and moan, and then freeze silently at one point, moaning again as it goes on and on and on.

When it's over, I'm still not on planet Earth. Cas surrounds me with his body, and his angel presence, kissing my crown, running fingers through my hair, tracing over previous marks he's left. "You, you didn't leave new marks, Cas," I say, still feeling high. Sex isn't just sex anymore, especially when it's like that, and I'm in another world. I bet this was the real reason humans were lining up to mate with angels in days of old.

"I didn't want to ruin the masterpiece I created the other day. These are stunning, and they're going away too quickly."

"Yeah, I'm healing faster now. Even faster than before."

"That must mean your strength has increased as well."

Huh. Maybe. "I'll have to test it out, but yeah could be."

"Good. This means I won't have to continue to walk so slowly."

I groan. "Cas. You already walk like a fire's chasing you."

"Not even close. I slow down quite a bit for you." I don't doubt that's true, but it's still fucking fast.

"Speaking of which, when do we leave?"

"In the morning. We will have dinner with Balthazar tonight, you will sleep, and then we will leave."

"He gonna be cool with that?"

"He will be, when he sees you. You are ready for travel."

"I see, so there's still some hope however small we can stay one more day."

"I thought you'd be in a hurry to leave. Don't you want to be back on the road? Being on the road, means searching for your brother."

I nod. "I do Cas, really I do. It's just…" I can't finish that sentence.

Cas does for me. "It's been a long time. You sometimes feel you are chasing a ghost."

I do. I hate how I feel at times, but I do feel this way at times. I haven't forgotten about the note Jo gave me, but even that was a long time ago now, and I'm no closer to knowing what it even means. It gave me a burst of hope, so bright, but time has dimmed that bulb some. "I won't give up on him, Cas. Never. But yeah I ask myself if Sammy is even real. Did I make him up, Cas?"

"No. He's real, but more important than me telling you so, _you've_ got to tell yourself so. This is where you have to have faith. When you're not sure, believe anyway. Make it so."

Every now and then, Cas comes out with shit like that. I marvel at him. "Wow, you actually made me feel better, Cas."

"You made yourself feel better."

I roll my eyes. "Way to ruin a moment."

"Let's have a new moment, where you suck my cock, and I put pretty marks on you."

"I thought you said you didn't want to ruin the masterpiece you created?"

"I've changed my mind. I can see where I could have improved the look. Besides, you've healed some of the best ones away," he says like it's my fault. Cas sticks a hand out and his belt comes flying into it. I fucking shiver. Oh god that's gonna hurt today. "Open."

He shoves the folded belt in my mouth, and I want to ask him how I'm supposed to suck his cock like this, but I can't… like this.

"Don't worry, you'll have that pretty mouth around my cock soon enough. But first, I want to hear you try to scream."

And scream I do, whether I want to, or not, until I'm sporting new marks, and the shiny angel come from his cock is a soothing balm to my hoarse throat.

~**~

I can't help it. At dinner, I feel like teenager who's just had sex with his boyfriend, _sneakily_ in his room under said boyfriend's parent's nose. I know better. Angels are supportive about things like sex, and mating, and marking. He'd probably throw us a parade, or something if we announced it. Still. Balthazar just has that parent feeling about him, and to a human like me, that's the feelings inspired. 

Cas is proud to have me seen with marks. I have some nice cheek bruises, and a swollen lower lip on the right side. I am also wearing Cas's collar – not the dog one, _Cas's._ He thought it proper, a formal sort of thing for dinner. In any case, I knew not to argue, or complain.

I am trying to be the definition of well-behaved, which is only partly to do with what Cas will do to me if I'm not. Balthazar likes me, I want him to continue to like me. "You're feeling better, I hear?" Balthazar asks.

"Yes, sir."

"Castiel, does he have to be so formal with me?"

"Yes," Cas says leaving no room for discussion.

I call Gabriel by his name, and other angels we've encountered, but Balthazar is on another level for Cas; I know him well enough to know what he'll expect.

"Anyway, that's good you're doing better. I suppose that means you'll be leaving, soon?"

"Early morning," Cas answers.

"Very well. I feel confident you will be back, Cassy added you to the wall."

"Balthazar," Cas warns.

I get suspicious, but remain quiet. Whatever happens next can be Balthazar's doing and not mine.

"Did you know, Dean? That wall has been in our family for centuries. I had them moved from heaven to my Community as soon as I was able. Of course, Anna wanted them too, but I am older, and she agreed they were better here."

 _Been in the family for centuries…?_ I look at Cas and arch my brow at him. He actually looks embarrassed, and this is the most fun I've had since, well the last time Balthazar embarrassed Cas.

"I'm not surprised Cassy chose to add you, not surprised in the least—"

"—Balthazar!"

Balthazar smiles. Balthazar does what he wants. "You're the only one he's added, Dean. Like I said, you must be very special to my brother."

I can feel Cas fuming beside me, and decide that's enough of the Embarrass the Cas game for tonight. "You know? I'm starved. What we eating, sir?"

Cas stews, and Balthazar is proud of himself. "I heard you like cheeseburgers, and pie. But before that, I thought we'd start with some Sorbi."

"Sorbi isn't good for humans, Balthazar," Cas says.

I almost laugh. Cas won't let me near that stuff. Looks like my entertainment for the evening continues. I enjoy cheeseburgers (after Cas makes sure I pray 'properly'), and laughs with Balthazar, as Cas fumes beside me, behaving himself as much as he's able, once again demonstrating just how much he reveres his brother, even while he's giving away his secrets. Balthazar shares a lot with me.

At the end of the night, Cas is snippy as hell. He demands I do an extra long prayer, which sucks because while the sex was fun, I am sore from it, plus the punishment. Thank fuck I'm healing faster these days. I should feel decent after a few hours sleep, but I actually _need_ to go to sleep.

Of course Cas isn't staying, which finally succeeds in pissing me off. "Dude, can you at least stay 'till I fall asleep?" I don't ask for shit like that often, if I'm asking I need it.

"I'm busy. I don't have time to babysit a human."

Fine. He can fuck off then. He storms out, I refuse to say anything to him, and turn over to my good side, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I can't fall asleep though, and it reminds me a lot of the times I first tried to sleep after we mated. _What the fuck? Is our bond fucked up? Is it broken?_ It's like it's short-circuiting or something.

All the while, I can feel his anger and irritation. Whatever's he's doing has not calmed him, and I can't sleep anyway, so I strike out to find the dickhead. I find him all right, sitting before the wall, staring at the place where our hands are engraved into it.

"What are you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be getting some sleep."

"I can't sleep. Whatever's going on with the bond won't let me." Like I fucking tried to tell him, I don't add. "Do you want to take it back, Cas?" He knows I mean my hand on the wall.

"I didn't want you to know," he says not answering my question.

"Yeah, I figured that part out, myself. Why, though? Is it really that big a deal me knowing I'm the only one?"

"Yes," he says his eyes growing stormier by the second.

"Okay." Jeez. I sit beside him, trying to see what he sees, and to feel what he feels. We sit there a long time in silence, people walking by us wondering what the hell we're doing, but no one brave enough to tempt the angel's wrath by asking. I don't figure it out before I start to grow sleepy, finally able to succumb to sleep now that I'm beside him.

"Come, Dean," he says with a heavy sigh. "I should have… just, come." He scoops me up and carries me to our room, and I don't complain, too fucking tired to care, falling asleep on his neck.

~**~

Cas and I head North for awhile. We travel far enough and long enough the weather starts to change, and it's not so stifling hot anymore. Balthazar provided me with some jackets, and supplies like a larger pack. I don't like to carry anything too big, but I really should have been carrying something bigger, since eventually I'll need some warmer clothes. Cas and I usually find stuff along the way, and stop at various Communities, but Balthazar insisted, asking me to humour him as a 'parent'. In other words he wasn't really asking, and he wanted to be assured I would have what I needed when I needed it.

Still, it's fairly warm, and while I can't trounce around in my tanks anymore, I don't need any of the jackets during the day, but the lighter one is good for at night. Cas barrels through the trees and down dirt roads, clearly on a mission, but doesn't tell me where we're going, and I don't ask. He's been in a bad mood since the dinner with his brother, so I keep quiet, and continuously check that the amulet is still secure around my neck. Thankfully that's the only thing around my neck, Cas took the collar off before we left Balthazar's. _Before we left home._

The roads are dangerous, and we try to stay hidden, but it's near impossible and we have to do a lot of fighting.

When there is a lot of days and distance between Balthazar's Community and where we are now, Cas freezes in a place, looking around. _Feeling._ All my alarm bells are going off. I look at Cas without speaking, telling him what I feel without words. "You can feel it too?" Cas says.

"Yeah. What is that?"

"This land is governed by fairies now."

"Fairies? Like, Tinkerbell?"

Cas does not understand my reference. "I don't know about _Tinkerbell_ , but fairies are dangerous, if that's what you want to know."

I would laugh, but he's serious. "You're afraid of fairies?"

"Not afraid. I have respect for them. Also, they possess knowledge of an ancient perfume recipe that has the capacity to kill a standard angel, and can make one like me very sick."

"Angel killing _perfume_? What the fuck?"

"Qeres. It was used in ancient Egypt. No one knows of it now, the ability to recognize the plants needed has long fallen out of the memory of humans, but the fairies know. They could cause a great deal of trouble for us."

"I think we should talk to these fairies. That angel-killing perfume sounds handy for killing Luci—"

"—don't say his name here, you fool. And no, it won't kill him. Would barely slow _him_ down. Even if he hasn't mated with Sam, do you have any idea how many mates he's taken in his time?"

Fine. I still think it would be handy, but I don't say it. It's just as well, these fairy creatures sound anti-social at best, doubt they'd give us the recipe. "Should I expect an attack?"

"Not if we're careful, and respectful. We just have to… not piss them off."

"How do we do that?"

"Follow my lead."

Cas leads us through what appears to be a meadow. Just a plain, ordinary meadow… Except for one thing. _This_ meadow is whole. _After,_ most things were destroyed. Even if parts survived, there were holes in the ground, grass and mosses burned away unevenly, trees torn apart, everything at least partially desecrated. This many years past, stuff has grown in, but it's easy to tell which parts had been blown to pieces.

Not here though. Here is different. It's like this place was never touched by the death and destruction that happened in the _After_. Even if it weren't for all that to give this place away as odd, I can feel the low hum of magic flowing rapid as a river through it.

I don't like it.

We walk miles, and don't speak, worried we'll say the wrong thing and draw their attention. I don't like how worried Cas looks. He says he's not afraid, and maybe he's not, but he's still concerned as hell, and I'd really like to know why. Especially if these wanna be Tinkerbell's can't do more than make him a little sick, and that's a maybe. Cas has gained more strength too.

We get to the edge of the meadow, and Cas lets go the tension he was holding in his vessel. I take it that means we're in the clear, for about five seconds, when suddenly we're surrounded by little bitty flying lights, filling the daytime sky.

Cas opens his wings, letting them burst free, making himself look bigger, his eyes glow with the eerie azure blue light of his grace, making him look like a charged up light saber.

"Wait, Castiel," a little voice says. "We mean you no harm."

Cas gives no fucks. "Go away, or I will destroy this place."

"You would dishonour the pact we have with your father?"

Fuck. Cas's kryptonite. Cas lets the glow fall away from him eyes, but he doesn’t put his wings away. "What do you want?"

"The King would like to buy your prisoner, for his son."

"What the fuck?" I say. Cas needs to start zapping these tiny mother fuckers.

"Dean. _Quiet,_ " Cas says. "This is my mate. He is not for sale."

One of the annoying little bright dots flickers about closer to us, and then enlarges to a pretty man, with wings. He's got his long, pale-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. His skin is shimmering purple, with darker purple contours, and lilac purple highlight to compliment his silver eyes, which have a diamond-like sparkle. "Castiel, I am Drydon. I make negotiations for the King."

A fucking fairy lawyer. Fantastic.

"He is willing to pay handsomely."

"Give your king my thanks, and my apologies. There isn't any price he could pay."

I can't help it, that makes me blush. I'm invaluable to Cas.

"Very well, then I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come with us. You have trespassed our lands, and must pay the fine."

"Does that fine happen to cost the fee of my mate?" Cas says, unimpressed.

The fairy lawyer smiles. "Oh good, you're catching on."

"I won't pay it. I won't release him, so you'll have to kill me. Father wouldn't be opposed to me acting in self defence."

Drydon twists his lips. "I suppose not. Let us see if we can solve this matter without a massacre. You both will have to come with me."

Cas is fucking pissed. "Fine. Come along, Dean."

"How we gonna come with you?" I ask unable to help myself, earning a hefty glare from Cas. He wanted me to be seen and not heard.

The fairy smiles at me. "Dean, is it? You're about to have an experience." He waves his hand over us, and Cas and I blink out of existence.

DEAN

Cas and I are in fairy jail. Things did not go well with the king. Currently, he's sitting and stewing in our 'cell', which is not too shabby as far as cells go. They even fed me an awesome stew, and gave me lots of juice. "You know Cas, being tiny has its benefits. We could really sneak up on people like this."

He squints his eyes at me. "Come," he says snapping his fingers.

Feeling brave with all the fairy guards surrounding us, I hop up on the bed, and lay my head in his lap. Maybe he'll see fit to spank me, and that will at least make him happy. He's not upset though. He just wanted me close, which isn't always easy to tell even through the bond. He runs his fingers through my hair, thinking.

"I might have to kill the fairy king, this will displease Father, but I can't leave you here. Even if I wanted to, it would drive both of us insane."

Yeah. The bond is super fucked up these days. Cas hasn't said, but I can tell he doesn't know why either. "You sure there's not a plan that would involve less murder?"

"Do you have any bright ideas?"

This kind of thing was Sammy's forte, but I did learn a thing or two. "You're not going to like it."

"If it involves anyone touching you, the answer is no. I thought you said you didn't want murder?"

It did involve touching. "Then I got nothing, Cas."

"Flying is one other possibility," he says thinking some more. "But it's a bit soon. I'm not sure what would happen to my wings."

"That can be our fail safe then."

"Yes. For now close your eyes. You might as well rest. I'll wake you in an hour."

I close my eyes as instructed, but don't fall asleep right away. Cas continues running fingers through my hair, and I can feel all kinds of emotion leaking off of him. A lot of it's annoyance for our predicament, but some of it's a softer feeling, directed at me. "Are you missing me, Cas?"

"I guess you really don't like sexual gratification, after all."

"Ah c'mon, Cas. I like knowing."

He's quiet for several breaths. "I am."

"Why? The bad fairies aren't going to take me away. You won't let them." If only they knew what they've really caged.

"I know. Honestly, I can't explain to myself why I don't let them and get a new mate. Missing you's the only thing that makes sense right now."

 _The only human emotion he currently understands._ Plus, he's still think about the stupid wall, isn't he? "You know Cas, you don't always have to miss me when you want to feel something for me."

"Then what else would I do?"

Holy shit, I can't believe he's actually interested. I wasn't prepared to give an answer. Thankfully I'm fluent in bullshit. "You could try, _enchantment_."

"What the devil is that?"

"It's where you're…" I think about how I feel about Cas. "In awe of someone. It's when you think they're magical, despite some of the shitty things they sometimes do. It's when you feel better being next to them. It feels nice to consider them with amazement."

"That sounds a lot less miserable than missing someone. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

I shrug, my eyes still closed. "I didn't think you were interested."

"I am. Interested, that is." He's quiet a long while, and I actually try to sleep, but I can't (even though I'm tired enough from never getting enough sleep), so I just continue to lay there with my eyes closed. "I don't like this," he says finally.

"Why?"

"What's the point in being enchanted with someone who isn't enchanted with you back?"

I want to laugh. I really want to laugh, but I think I'd get thrown across the room. _How many times have I told him _I love you?_ How many times have I pledged myself to him?_ I decide to skip all that, and the lesson on loving someone who doesn't love you back, and put him out of his misery. I risk his wrath to open my eyes and sit up. "Cas? Can't you feel it?" I put his hand on my chest.

"Dean, you need to start making sense, and fast."

"Of course I'm enchanted with you. Ever since I first laid eyes on you."

"Ever since… but I beat you almost to death. I thought that didn't sit well with humans." It's clear he can't imagine why. Angels have some really different ideas about that stuff.

"Yeah, and I _shouldn't_ even like you, I know, but it doesn't change that I do, and more."

"Show me."

"Cas, c'mon. I thought you said sleep." I don't fucking want to show him when I'm feeling that.

"This is important."

I sigh. "Fine." It's not hard for me to drum up feelings of awe about Cas. He's always been a wonder to me. His powers – even when I'm the recipient of some of his powerful outbursts – alone are reason to feel about him with amazement. But the real reasons I'm enchanted with him, are far more irrational. My heart beats for him without me knowing why. I crave his smiles, his touch – gentle or violent – I feel a contented buzz being near him, and fucked if I could tell myself why.

Earlier on, I thought it was some mutated mix of lust and the bond. I do lust for him, all the time, and the bond adds a complication to my feelings, a sort of obsessive-compulsion, but it's not the same as love. It took me some time to figure out, but I know the difference now. I know I feel love for Cas, because through all this, through everything, I've never stopped loving myself.

I don't have many memories of my mother, but I remember her saying to me, when I was a little boy, _love can only grow out of respect for your own life, Dean. Love your own existence first, and then the love you'll be able to give will be boundless._

I allow my feelings to flood to him. His hand squeezes tight in my hair, and then he relaxes. "That? But I feel that from you all the time."

He can't really be that dense can he? It takes him a moment, but then he gets it. "All the time? How can that be?"

"Believe me I don't mean to." And sometimes I'm mad enough at him not to want to.

"It must be the bond," he decides. "It's not natural for a human to have so much feeling for their mate."

He can't possibly know that. "You wanted me to show you, and I have." It's easy for me to stop the onslaught of 'enchantment feelings' when he's pissing me off. "You're a real prince charming, you know that Cas? You know what else? Maybe I'd like to stay here with the prince. Maybe _he'll_ appreciate me."

That sets off his anger. He drags me up by the collar of my shirt. "You forget your place."

"I'm, I'm sorry, Cas. That was a fucking stupid thing to say to you. But it doesn't feel good for me either, when I feel this way about you, and you hate the thought of it. I wish I didn't like you at all."

"It doesn't matter what you wish, because you do," his lips are close to mine, my already racing heart races more.

"Yeah," I breathe. Fuck it's not fair. I want him. I hate him sometimes, and I still want him.

"I wish the same. I wish I didn't like you at all. I wish I didn't miss you, or that I wasn't enchanted with you, but I am." Cas presses his lips to mine, and then it sets off our standard frenzy. "You've got too few marks on you. You need marks on you. Lots. Always."

"Fuck. Yes. _Please._ "

We forget where we are, and Cas starts undressing me, removing my shirts, his jacket, I undo the buttons of his shirt. He bites and sucks the skin of my neck, as he removes his belt. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember there are guards somewhere. They don't seem concerned with the noises we're making.

When the first lash hits my back, I have to bite my hand to keep from crying out. Cas doesn't leave many, but the few he leaves are fucking good ones. I can feel the leather slice into my skin. Cas places six well-aimed stripes, before he drops his belt, and rakes his nails over them, bringing a new kind of pain. All the while, I keep quiet as I can. Cas flips me over, his hands full of my blood, and he jumps on top of me ready to take me, and that's when the lazy-ass guards finally come to see what all the commotion is. "Hey, hey, hey!"

Cas doesn't stop, and continues to ravage me. I hear the cell door open, and one of the guards foolishly tries to touch Cas, lucky for him, he doesn't touch me. Both are thrown into the cell wall. "How dare you try to come between my mate and I, when I'm bedding him."

They realize real quick that our 'imprisonment' is conditional to Cas's restraint. They're off and hightailing their fairy-asses out of there, while Cas proceeds to fuck the daylights out of me.

After, I'm lying on top of Cas finished, Cas is on his back admiring his handy work; I vaguely notice the door to the cell is still open. _My body fucking hurts._ I never get to sleep, and we don't get too much time after, before the guards are back. "The king has said you've had enough time down here to think, and he would like to speak with you both."

I move to get up, but Cas stops me. "Out. We will dress, and we will speak with him." _And then we are leaving,_ he doesn't say, but I know Cas well enough to know how he works.

When we are dressed, the guards return and we are escorted to a courtyard sort of area, except it's underground. This time, weird little fairy guns are pointed at Cas, and I can only assume they are filled with the angel-killing fairy perfume. They don't take the same precautions with me.

"I will kill anyone who touches him," Cas informs them, and because Cas is scary, and these fairies value their lives, they keep their distance.

I must say, we are treated respectably. Not according to Cas, of course, who expects every kind of creature to bow at his feet, but they aren't dicks to us, which, can't say the same for most of the angels I've encountered. I mean, sure the fairies locked us up in a dungeon, but it was nice far as dungeons go, and I get it, they were just trying to protect themselves. The only part I don't like is this me marrying the prince business. _That doesn't bode well for my finding Sammy mission._

"Castiel, I trust your stay has been reasonable, so far?" the king says.

"No it has not. I want to be done with this. You clearly do not understand angel mating practices, the bond cannot be undone unless you kill me." Which is not happening anytime soon, he says without saying it.

"There must be a way. We shall simply find the way, and undo the bond. Dean will make the perfect husband for my son."

"Forgive me if I don't have time to stay and wait for you to figure that out."

While Cas argues with the king, I distract myself looking over to the fairy prince, because if I don't, I'm going to interject my two cents, and no one will like it. No one's interested in what Dean wants, and that's why I recognize the look on the fairy prince's face; no one's interested in what he wants either. _Does he really want to marry me?_ We've really only heard from the king.

While Cas and the king go at it, I get the prince's attention, and convince him to come off to the sidelines with me. "Hey," I begin, not really sure where to begin. "So, you wanna marry me, huh?"

His face falls. "Yes."

"That's real convincing."

The prince is a beautiful, purple, man-fairy, and if I weren't already attached, I'd be into him. He's got his long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and since the fairies don't wear too many clothes, I can see all the finer features of his sculpted body – he's built like a warrior. His eyes are large with purple irises, and his jaw strong. He smiles. "You are a fine human," he says. "I do not wish to insult you, but my heart is elsewhere."

"Ah, gotcha. Me too, for the record. How can we get your father to drop this?"

"I don't know, I'm afraid, or I'd have already done it."

I check on Cas, things are getting hostile with the fairy king, Cas has that look about him that says he's going to let go any moment, and ruin this place. At the same time, a rumbling starts from above. It gets louder, and louder, and goes on and on. "What the hell is that?" I ask the prince.

He closes his eyes a moment. "The sentries say it's an army."

Did he just talk to his sentries with his mind? Holy fuck, they're like bees aren't they? _Fucking, fairy hive-mind!_ "An army?"

His eyes pop wide. "Lucifer's army."

I almost reach out to grab the prince, remembering in time not to touch him. "Is he there? Is Lucifer up there?"

He closes his eyes again. "Yesssss."

"Cas, Lucifer, he's above us!" I try and yell over their loud voices and the rumbling as the army passes over us. "Cas!"

Cas does turn to look at me, but the king is mad. "Seize him," the king says referring to Cas.

Cas is done, so fucking done with the fairies and all the nonsense, but before he can unleash his power a shitload of them begin spraying him with what I assume is their angel-killing perfume. Cas starts coughing, and I'm fucking torn. Sammy could be above me, but Cas needs my help.

Cas meets my eyes. "Go. Run, Dean!" Cas is still sputtering and coughing, and there are a lot of fairies, but I'm far enough away, I could make a decent run for it. I'm teeny tiny, but I guess I'll just have to figure that out later.

The only thing in my way is the prince who winks at me. "I'll get this one," he says. "Run," he adds under his breath.

He moves to 'catch' me, but without trying hard, I easily slip past him and run. I have no idea where I'm going in the maze of tunnels in this place, and I've got a whole fairy army up my ass. _Up. I have to go up._ That's all I do know, and what I keep chanting every time I get to a fork and have to make a new decision of which way to go. _Better to make a wrong choice than to stand still and not try._

After a long while of running (another time I'm grateful to Cas's walking fetish) I see light, I'm at the fucking top. That's when the rumbling sound stops, and my heart falls. _Are they gone? Did I miss them?_ I only pause for a quick moment, then I sprint out of the fairy hole anyway, only to be shrouded in darkness again. I'm underneath! I'm underneath the army. They've stopped. When they start moving again, I have to run for cover, so as not to be trampled by a horse hoof, or someone's foot, or a wheel. I do think to grab hold of something, maybe I can hitch a ride, but at the speed and angle of the movements, all I can do is dive out of the way, and hope not to get trampled.

"There he is, get him!"

The fairies are right behind me, and are super fucking pissed. Now I have to avoid them _and_ not get squashed by Lucifer's army. I run, and make it to the edge, getting myself out of trample territory. By this point, the fairies have the upper hand, I realize that, they can fly better, without the confines of the underground ceiling, and the bright-light mother fuckers start surrounding me. _Up. I have to go up._ I look above me, there's a tall flower, and I just start fucking climbing, knowing it's a last ditch effort for _something_ , of what I don't know.

I climb and I climb, swatting at fairies with my legs and my free fists, as I climb, trying to fend them off long enough just to take a look. _I have to see him._ This is my only chance to get a look at Sammy, if he's even with Lucifer, and I don't care what I gotta do, and who I gotta hurt to see him. I punch a fairy in the face, I kick another in the stomach when he tries to grab me, come hell or high water, I'm making it to the top.

And I do.

When I'm there, I stare out, knowing I have only precious few moments to get even a glimpse. The army storms by, not caring what's being destroyed in their wake, and at this level, I can really see how much a hoof pounds the ground, and how much a wheel grinds into the mud.

I don't see any sign of Sammy, or of Lucifer for that matter. I'm not giving up though, not until every last one of these asshole's is out of my sight. He won't be able to hear me, but in a last ditch effort, I start screaming his name anyway, as if to manifest him out of nothing. "Sammy! Fuck. _Sammy!_ " I scream, and scream until my throat is raw. Tears fall down my cheeks, and I strain to see something, anything, some trace of my brother, watching horse after horse, creature after creature, walk by.

There's nothing though, and my stomach sinks as it looks like we're getting to the end of the entourage. The more that goes by, the less likely I am to see Sammy, or even Lucifer, which I'll take at this point. I'd love to have a fresh glimpse of him to fuel me more than I already am.

I'm not climbing down for nothing though, the fairies buzzing all around me, no longer attempting to capture me for fear I'll fall, and my dedication pays off. I catch sight of a large carriage being pulled by six horses; my whole body breaks out into gooseflesh. The door suddenly swings open, and out pops Lucifer. "Stop! Stop at once!" he says.

 _Someday, I'm going to kill him._ I don't care what Cas says.

The army keeps moving, but the carriage stops, and Lucifer exits, pulling someone with him.

My heart stops. All time freezes.

Following behind Lucifer, and gasping for breath, is Sammy. He's not the image he's been in my mind all theses years. Sammy was twenty-one when Lucifer took him, he had a cutesy babyface, large puppy eyes that shone like the sun, his dimples always showing from smiling so damn much; his dark hair ending in tufts that stuck outward around his ears.

Sam is a man now, and I don’t think he's smiled like I remember for a long time.

He's still Sammy, but gone are the soft lines of his cheeks, the bones of his face more chiselled, his jawbone more pronounced. _Sammy's got scruff on his cheeks._ Makes me smile. His hair is so much longer now, and if I could, I'd tease him for looking like he should be in a Pantene Pro-V commercial.

His body is bigger too, he's more broad shouldered, and if he were standing to full height, I swear I'd see he's taller.

My eyes look for these things first, what he looks like now, avoiding everything I can feel, even from way down here and this far off from him. _Sammy isn't doing well._ My heart seizes in my chest, and it's more pain than I've ever felt, which is saying something being mated to the angel I am.

Lucifer guides him to sit on the steps of the carriage, as Sammy puts his head down grasping his hands around the crown, taking deep breaths. He's dressed kinda oddly. He's wearing light blue robes, and no shoes. Fuck, he can't breathe. He looks like… like he's drowning, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Lucifer looks more concerned than I'd expect him to be. He slams his hand up against the carriage, cracking it, but then crouches down in front of Sam in a way that makes it look like he actually cares. _Does he?_ If he does, there's a _need_ for it. I know kinds like Lucifer.

Lucifer grabs hold of Sam's hands, and says things to him. Sam must say something back, because Lucifer leans back to signal to someone behind the carriage. In short order a horse is brought to them, and Sam stands with Lucifer's help. Lucifer helps him onto the horse. It's when Sammy's climbing on, his robes fall away from his leg on my side, and I see them; nasty looking gashes, and bruises, looking painful, and raw.

It's no different than the situation on that front. If Sam caught sight of me, he'd see how many marks and bruises I have, all part of being mate to an angel, which I just can't tell from here if that's the case or not. An angel can slap marks and a collar on a human, without doing an official mating. But point is, I still don’t fucking like seeing someone's beat up on my little brother, especially knowing there's no way that if he did say yes, he would have said it without coercion.

Hell, now that I understand something of the way these bonds work, if Sammy looked happy, I'd find a way to get over it – I wouldn't want Sammy telling me how to live my life – but Sammy ain't happy.

_Sammy's… barely fucking there._

Lucifer looks back into the carriage, and then shuts the door. He climbs on the horse behind my brother, and Sammy leans back against him, melting into him, like butter into bread, defined by the support Lucifer's giving him. Lucifer waves the signal, and they head off.

I watch my brother ride off slowly, as fairy fuckers swarm around me, not really sure what to do with me since they can't get close without hurting me, or making me fall to my death, and they don't want me escaping. We're at check, they have to wait until I'm good and ready to come down, and that's not going to be until I can't see any more hairs on my little brother's head.

Horrible as that was… _God it's good to have seen him._ My heart feels fuller than it has in a long time. Hope blooms anew. He's worse for wear, he's not doing well, but he's alive and I can work with that.

When he's gone, I shout over to the fairies. "I'll come willingly," I promise, as I start climbing down, wanting nothing more than to run after Sam, but even I know that's not a bright move right now, tiny as I am.

"Forgive us if we don't believe you. We will be below to escort you back to the dungeon."

"Okay, but I wouldn't touch me if I were you." They've already been warned by Cas, but they might not care at this point. We haven't been the most well-behaved prisoners.

But, they don't touch me, just form a barrier around me, as they bring me down to the dungeon, where Cas is already back in our cell, lying on his back. With all the commotion seeing Sam, and the adrenaline of running from fairies, the pull to Cas was a distant hum, but being this close to him again, I'm slammed with the realization that we were apart, and now we're close again. Being with him is relief. "Dean?" Cas croaks.

"Cas, are you all right?" I kneel down to see if he's hurt.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look real fine."

"What happened to you?" He looks me up and down.

I'm covered in mud from head to toe. "Cas, I saw him. I saw Sammy!" I tell Cas everything from how he looks now to how he seemed to be struggling to catch his breath.

"Hmmmm, can't say I know what was happening there, but you saw him. My bet is they are headed to Gabriel's."

"That mean we can head that way to help?"

"We can't help Gabriel," he says, his tone that says that's final.

"But we do have to go after Sammy anyway."

"About that."

"You're not actually fine, are you?"

"I was affected more by the operes than I thought I would be, but as I suspected, it didn't kill me. However, we must head back to Balthazar's. He'll be able to help."

Fuck that's a long ways back. Sammy's so close, but yet so far.

"That is, _if_ we can get out of here. Our back up plan is gone. I won't be able to fly like this. We'll have to come up with something else."

I nod, and move to sit up against the wall, gently lifting his head, and placing it in my lap. "Holy shit Cas, you're shaking." _Is he gonna last long enough to make it back to Balthazar?_

"Essentially I have been poisoned."

"You know, maybe we take some of this with us if we can."

"I already told you it won't work against, Lucifer."

"There are other angels in his employ. Could come in handy."

"If we can then," he says in a weak voice.

We're quiet for a bit, listening to the sound of nothing, I'm still reeling from seeing Sammy, but then a question pops into my head. "What did you do to make the king so mad?"

"I asked to speak to the queen."

"The queen?"

"She's really in charge around here."

"Wait, she is?"

"Yes. Had I realized the fairy king was so unreasonable, I would have asked to speak with her sooner."

"Where is she?"

"Not here, I'm afraid."

I sigh. "Could I marry the prince, so they'll give you an antidote, and then we make a run for it?"

"Even if I would allow that, which I will not, it would take us a century to get to Balthazar's Community like this."

Yeah. "Well you might not have a choice, Cas. They might make me marry him."

His whole body tightens. "Then so be it, but it won't be because I have said yes."

Dear Lord. He's so _fucking_ stubborn.

"Dean, I need you to say a prayer for me. And not one of your ridiculous nonsense prayers, a really good one. It needs to count."

Since he can't see me, I roll my eyes, but I'm picking up from him, he's actually worried, and that naturally makes me want to comfort him. I try not to worry too, since it does no good to have both of us worried, but fuck things aren't looking good for us. "No nonsense, Cas. I promise. Dear Father, today, I ask for protection for your most loyal son, Castiel…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs Cas and Dean dance to: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rqnw5IfbZOU
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HI_xFQWiYU


	11. The Architect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 21, 2019  
> ___________________
> 
> Happy Easter everyone! 9.5 K here for you. 
> 
> I have been working on WW, slowly, but I've had a huge rush of cool scenes flood to me for that, so it's coming. 
> 
> These two are really all I'm working on atm. Work picked up, and I have been extremely tired when I get home. Hope you enjoy this chapter, so much of my heart and soul went into it. 
> 
> Love,  
> Mocky

SAM AND DEAN

I look to my right. In the sea of people the only one I care two bits about is the floppy-haired one with the smile like pure sunshine standing next to me in his over-sized maroon hoodie. Sammy. "What do you think it's gonna be, Dean?"

It reminds me of what I've seen in medieval films; a bunch of people gathered around a stone stage. How it was placed here, I don't know, but I suppose there's no shortage of rubble these days, with it being littered everywhere. _The angels and demons were not kind to the mountains when they tore them apart with their powers._ And it's not like moving stones is a problem for angels. On the stage are two demons and an angel; they're waiting for something.

Several humans have been gathering any passers by on the roads, and whoever else has decided to squat in the abandoned city on their way to who knows where, herding us to stand before the large stone platform. We have been told there is a place open for humans to live, and that someone is going to arrive shortly, to tell us all about it.

I feel like I'm about to be sold a fucking Timeshare, but Sammy wanted to come. _The things I wouldn't do for the kid._ "I think this is going to be a waste of our time," I tell him.

"Either way, we'll learn something Dean. We need to learn all we can."

Sammy's right about that. The world is in chaos now. We basically have new Overlords. They try to sell themselves as our _guides_ our _helpers_ , but I've already gathered what's really going on, angels want dominion over humankind thinking they know best. Sadly, most humans in their state of fear, and anxiety have clung onto the hope the angels promise.

I bump shoulders with my brother. "Okay fine, but if I miss out on burgers for this, I will make the next few miles miserable for you." An angel in the next town is promising burgers, which is the way to my allegiance.

Sam laughs. "Sure Dean… oh! quiet, it's starting."

A terrible shiver comes over me when I see who steps onto the 'stage'. We've heard rumour he's around, but no one seems to know what he's up to, only that it's probably no good. _Lucifer._ He has all the confidence in the world as he walks out to the waiting crowd. Behind him, he's dragging something… no somebody. They are attached to a leash via a collar around their neck. _I can't think of anything worse._ They are badly beaten, and on all fours struggling to keep with Lucifer's pace.

Finally, I can see the person is a he. He's naked. With all his skin on display, or what's left of it, I can see every bruise and cut carved into him. The crowd is shocked into a hush. No one was expecting this, but like passing by a car accident, every one of us has to see the devastation, and is transfixed with the sight. I want to know what the fuck is going on.

I look over at Sammy, who was a second ago a jubilant boy, but now's a pale white never having seen the likes of what's before us. Because it's not just an angel with his battered human, it's what pure evil looks like. "D-Dean, I think we should go," he says without looking away. _He can't look away either._

"I wanna go too, Sammy, but you're right. We need to learn… something." What I don't know, but there is something here.

Sammy nods, continuing to stare with fascination.

"Welcome," Lucifer says. His smile is bright reaching up into his forehead, which is too far for a smile to go. Smiles like that only mean one thing, what we're about to hear is for his benefit only, but he's going to make it seem like it's for us.

Lucifer goes onto say a lot of things. His charisma and charm have the crowd captivated. It doesn't seem to matter he has a person, which I think is beaten human (hard to tell at this point), and in shackles at his feet.

It's easy to feel the shift in the crowd, they've gone from shocked at the sight of what Lucifers's brought with him, to thinking that he must have a good reason for beating the poor sap—he's charmed them that much. There's only one reason people act like that, they think they are safe from his abuse; they don't see what's really happening in front of them for what it really is.

Of course, there are a few in the crowd like Sammy and I who have realized that what's before us is a pure psychopath. _We know a monster when we see one, we know monsters are real, but too many good people still believe everything has some amount of purity to it._ I can tell by the way people's eyes shift and look about, the way mine are, looking to see who else is buying this act, who's like me and who's not.

For those who've bought into Lucifer, I get it. Creatures like Lucifer have a way of making people feel good, and special, but there's also the subconscious fear they'll end up like his little pet driving them to please him, making them minions. It's something Lucifer doesn't have to say, draw attention to, or even explain, but it's felt even if the people don't know what it is they're feeling. It terrifies them into romancing themselves with the fake part of Lucifer, the part they'd rather believe is real, the charismatic, fun Lucifer he's showing now, even though deep inside they know it's not real. _They just want this image right here to stay here for as long as possible._

"C'mon Sammy, let's go."

Sam knows as well as I do that as much as we'd like to, there's nothing we can do for the beaten man on stage. It will only mean three graves, instead of one. _We have to leave him to his doom._ Insane as it sounds, he likely wouldn't want to come with us anyway. I saw the trance in his eyes. _That's what kinds like Lucifer do. Convince people to allow him to abuse them in broad daylight, and thank Lucifer for the honour, just please, please throw me a scrap of praise now and then._

When we make it back to the Impala, we're both quiet. It's not 'till I get miles between what we saw and us that Sammy finally feels like he can talk. "Dean if I ever have that look in my eyes, promise you'll kill me?"

"Sammy what the fuck?"

"I mean it Dean."

"Nothing's happening to you on my watch."

"The world is… it's bad Dean, worse than before. Who knows what's gonna happen anymore?"

Once again, Sammy's right, but he's the eternal optimist between the two of us, and he can't fucking think like that, not with the way I think. We'll be doomed. "Fuck that, Sam. That's not happening to you, and I'm not making any stupid promises like that to you, because even on the off chance it did, I'd bring you back."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm Dean Winchester, and I can do anything."

Sam smiles, and then bursts out into a big laugh, and boy am I happy to hear it. It's like the magic of unicorns spreading through the Impala, washing away the terror of Lucifer. Sam's my fucking unicorn. "Okay Dean Winchester."

And just like that, Sammy believes in me. _Let me always be worthy of his faith._

~DEAN~

"Cas? Fuck, Cas? Stay with me, buddy."

"Do… _not_ … call… me buddy."

I laugh. Thank God. He's still with me. It's hard to tell sometimes; Cas doesn't breathe or have a heartbeat. All I've got is the bond between us to feel him, but I've been feeling it so long, will I really know what it feels like not to feel him right away? weird as that sounds. We've been down here for three days since Cas has been poisoned. On one of the days, they didn't bring me food, or water, I think to scare us. They fed me yesterday and today after Cas was able to somehow muster up a look, even in his state, that said they'd better take care of me, or he'd find a way to make their grandchildren's grandchildren regret it. Still, that means bad. Starvation is a pretty serious threat.

I can't think about that now though, I have to find a way out of here before Cas expires, and I'm stuck in fairyland forever, married to a prince who's in love with someone else. _I've got to get to Sammy._

There's a new urgency to find Sammy, that's filled me since I saw him. I haven't spent much time thinking about what Lucifer would do to him. I didn't imagine it would be good, and agonizing over that would just slow me down. But now I can't help it, not with that image in my head of him. So skinny, ragged, wasting away. _Barely there._

_Fuck._

Everything feels like it's going to hell right now.

"Dean," Cas croaks.

"I'm here, Cas." Cas's head's in my lap. I sit here staring at him, as he floats in and out of consciousness.

"I think… I should try flying."

"I think that's a bad idea. We don't know what it will do." I'd rather take my chances with marrying the prince, which Cas is not for. In his state, losing his wings might be the least of our worries, I doubt he'd even last the flight.

"But there's only so much time before… before we won't even be able to try."

"All due respect sir, but fuck no."

"None of that was res..respectful, and I will remember."

"I'll happily take the beating for that if you live, but no."

"You realize you can't stop me from flying if I decide to, yes?"

"I do. C'mon look, please Cas. Give me some more time. Just a little more time." If I lose Cas, I don't know what the fuck I'll do. Sure, I'll keep trying to save my brother, I'll go on, but Cas and I are pieces of each other by this point. There will be a hole too deep to ever cover. Loving Cas has changed me. I don't need him, exactly, but I don't want life without him either.

"A little bit more, and then we try. I may not even be able to."

"Thanks, Cas."

"And when I do recover, you're in for a world of pain for not obeying me in the first place."

"I expect no less," I say with a goofy smile. Right. Now to get us out of here. I have no idea what I'm doing, and Cas is gonna _kick my fucking ass_ for this, but at least he'll be around to do it, if I do something. Acting is better than not acting in this case. "Guard. Hey you, fairy guard, Come," I call out.

Cas is already pissed. "Dean, whatever it is you think you are doing, stop."

It's hard to say no to Cas, real hard for several reasons, but I've got the need to keep him alive, _just_ overriding that pull to do as he says. The guard comes over, Cas continues to glare up at me. "I would like to speak with the prince."

"The prince is busy. He can't just talk to prisoners on a whim."

"You know, the king wants me to marry the prince. When I'm, uh, prince, how well do you think that's going to bode for you?"

That makes him think. I'm good at reading people, and I got to chat with the prince, if somehow I do become a fairy prince, no way he'll let this asshole treat me like this. _Just because one egotistic fairy guard is a douchebag, doesn't mean they all are._ "Fine. I'll let him know," he says like it's some big chore. Jeez, it's not like he was doing anything, but stand around.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Cas says trying to be terrifying, which, well he always is, but it's less impressive when he can barely move.

"I don't know," I admit.

"Whatever you're doing, if it works, you're in big trouble."

"You realize that makes little sense, Cas?"

"It makes all the sense in the world to me. Put your collar on."

Ugh. I've still got my pack, because the fairies aren't worried over my human weapons. I leave Cas to pull the collar out, make a show of it by holding it up to him, and then fasten it around my neck. "Happy?"

"Overjoyed."

It's not long before, to my surprise, the prince does show. Something's off though, I can feel it right away. "Oh good he says, my intended would like to speak to me. Have you come to your senses?" he says.

It takes me a moment, because I'm not quite sure what I'm feeling in the air, but then I get it, the prince is trying to help me, but he's a bit of a prisoner too. "I have, but it's, uh, human custom to at least have a courting, a, uh, a date before marriage."

"You drive a hard bargain human, but I will make arrangements with my father. Will dinner suit you?"

"That works."

He nods giving me a meaningful look, and then he's gone. "What just happened?" Cas whispers in my ear. I've moved us to the bed, and have Cas on top of me, which I don’t prefer. I like it better when Cas consumes me.

"I think the prince is going to help us."

"That's not what it sounded like."

I sigh heavily. "Can you just trust me, Cas? I got this."

"I trust no one, Dean."

"Well then, allow me to prove myself, eh?"

He's quiet for a moment. "You don't have a nickname for me," he says. _That's random._

"Yeah I do, I call you, Cas."

"Mine for you is better."

I laugh. "It is. You win at nicknames, Cas."

Later, when the prince returns, he's surrounded by an entourage. I look to, Cas. "I'll be back."

He nods.

The prince is careful not to touch me, motioning to follow with his eyes. He leads me to a library, which is weird, but I go with it, and I see there's a candlelight dinner set up. "I would have preferred a more intimate setting for our first date, but Father insisted we have escorts," he tells me.

Damn. I had hoped we were going to get some time alone too, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. I go with whatever is going to happen, putting my faith in the prince. _Cas. Such a hypocrite. Telling me to have faith all the time, all the while trusting no one. How's that having faith?_ "So, what's your name? Or will I be calling you prince through our marriage?"

That makes his eyes smile. "My name is Charand. I am the fifth of my name."

"Charand the fifth?"

"Yes."

"Huh, well I'm the one and only Dean. My family wasn't fancy enough to have fourths let alone fifths. I am named after my grandmother, who apparently was a badass." I never met her. Dad told us a few stories.

"I like it, and that kind of makes you a second if you're named after your grandmother."

The prince turns out to be a super cool guy, and I learn a lot about fairies from him. I politely refuse the alcohol he offers me – I've already got a tally going with Cas, I'm not adding _alcohol_ to it – but enjoy the delicious food. Don't even know what I'm eating, but it's awesome.

I get that we can't talk about anything, too many other fairies around, and the prince is just as much a prisoner to this fiasco as I am, so I have a good time, like we actually are on a date, and oh god, I enjoy it just a bit.

It's not that I even want to be on a date with _him_ , hell, I'm not even the 'date night' kind of guy, but the human part of me wishes Cas and I could do something like this. Not now. _Definitely, not now._ I don't want anything like this, 'till Sammy's back under my watchful eye. Someday though? Might be fun once in a while.

By the end of the night, we are friends. The Prince reaches under the table, and grabs something. It's a book. "This is a gift. A courting gift if you will. I read that humans give such things when they are courting."

Maybe in like, olden times, but fucked if I know anything about that tradition. I do know that the guard around the prince won't know what human courting practices are, so it's the perfect way to slip me something. "Yes, that's right. Thank you, Charand. I will treasure it. Give me something to do to pass the time 'till our wedding." I wink at him.

"I've had a nice time, Dean. My father's men will escort you back to your travel companion."

I get back with my book. Cas has his eyes closed, but he sleepily opens them when I come in. "How was your date?" he says. Yeah, he's pissed about that.

"You know I had to do it, Cas."

"No, you didn't. What do you have there?"

"Courting present." Yeah. His state is making me the stupid kind of brave that I will surely regret when he's back to full strength, because I will make sure that happens.

"You are being disrespectful. Make sure to add that—" cough, cough, "—to your prayers tonight."

"Yes, sir." I don't pay too much attention to him though excited to look through the book, and see what the prince has for me. Fuck. The whole thing's in Enochian. I've made attempts at learning the language, but I can't say I know it well. There's more to it than just learning some sounds to some weird-symbol-letters, and we've been too busy with other shit for me to really get to know it. Sure I can read some things, but a whole book?

I try making out the title. "This looks like this says The Builder, is that right Cas?" I hold the books so he can see it.

"Close. It is titled, _The Architect_."

That makes the hair on the back of my arms prickle.

I don't get the architect reference, if that even means anything, and I flip through but don't see anything of use, but there isn't anything. Just a stupid, useless book that I don't understand. Looks like Cas was right, you can't trust anyone. This really is a fucking courting present, and a boring one at that. Furious, I throw the book at the wall. It slams against it, and something flitters out of it and to the ground. I race over to pick it up.

"Holy shit." I bring the paper over to Cas. "Can you read this?" I ask quietly. It's in Enochian.

I hold it up for Cas to read. "He says he's going to come tonight, and to be ready."

"That's it?"

"Dean, it's already in Enochian. He's got to keep it brief."

"About that Cas, fairies know Enochian?"

"The Royalty do. They are taught various languages. Most fairies speak another language in fact, but only the royal court and the guard are taught varying degrees of other languages. The guard wouldn't be likely to know Enochian."

This is all fucking awesome. I make sure my pack is ready to go. "Cas, how you doing?"

"Fi—"

"—don't say fine."

"The poison has burrowed deeper into my grace."

"Fuck, what does that mean?"

"It means I'm likely going to die."

"Don't talk like that, Cas."

"I'm not talking like anything. I'm just stating facts." He is too. He doesn't seem to feel anything about it.

"Wait, if it affects grace, then can't that perfume do the same to me?"

"If it was directly sprayed at you, yes, but they didn't know that, and I wanted to keep it that way."

"Were you going to tell me this at some point?"

"I'm telling you now. I didn't think it was going to be a problem."

Why am I not surprised? Cas has always been this way. A whole 'needs to know' kinda thing. "I still think this was kinda needs to know, Cas. Just sayin'." Even though he's still a dick from his deathbed, I head over to lay with him after I'm packed up. We wait.

SAM ~before the _After_ , after the _Before_ ~

_Many things occupied my mind, but at the forefront was Dean. Sunny, Dean. And I know, my brother wasn't always the sunniest of characters, but when I was blue, or when I needed a pick me up, he became what I called: Sunny Dean. He'd make me laugh, or distract me until I figured out what I needed to, to feel right._

_But I knew if I wanted to save my mind I'd need the other Dean. The one who kicked my ass when I wallowed for too long. The one that got me out of my head, and doing things. Trauma lives in the body, even if it's the mind that delves into madness._

~**~

Lucifer is gone for months. The first thirty days are the hardest. Unravelling the threads of cognitive dissonance isn't easy when the claws are deep. Especially when sleep is fleeting, making the circuits in my brain more uncoordinated than they already are. Making it hard for me to know what's real.

That's when Dean comes. In my head of course. Sunny Dean, offering me jokes and promises of pie, and milkshakes. I'm a bit aimless, lying on my bed, not doing much. Unable to sleep, but too tired to do anything. I close my eyes, and let my brother entertain me.

Reality creeps in. I remember that I don't know if he's alive, or dead. Instead of letting my mind wander to bad places, I picture Dean ditching the demons, and driving off in the Impala.

Then Dean starts to kick my ass like he does, telling me to get up, and get moving. I know as well as Imaginary Dean does, I have to get up, and do things if I want to pull myself out of this depression. It comes at the right time, my head is clearer. Without Lucifer here to make me and manipulate me into doing things I don't want to do, I remember who I am. I remember what I'm about.

I get out of bed, and do stuff.

Things are different this time. I'm not confined to my room, and I can go anywhere in the palace. Before Lucifer left, he said I was permitted to sit outside on the large deck, on the Eastside of the palace. I have to bring someone to watch me, but I don't have to ask them… _just tell them that's what I want he said._ Apparently, since I will rule by his side, they are mine to command. Of course, there are limits to this. I have restrictions I am to abide, but saving those things, they are at my beck and call.

There is also a workout room. I don't know where you get weights in an apocalypse, but Lucifer has managed to find some, and since I need to move, I use them. Working up a sweat, making my muscles move in a full range of motion is good for me. Getting my heart rate up revives me, makes me feel like me again.

I meditate in the sunshine every morning, I can feel my neurology weaving back together.

I sleep through the night for the first time in forever. The nightmares aren't gone, but they lessen, no longer an every night occurrence. My appetite comes back, and I can eat more than just soup. I put on weight. I read like crazy, studying as much as I have available to me in my room, and what's written in the libraries on mating bonds. I find a book that can help me begin translating Enochian.

Then, _then_ I find music. In one of the rooms, there's a record player, and a whole bunch of seventies rock. _Dean._ Feeling the most like myself I have in over a year, sitting here listening to these records gets my heart going. It takes me back, and suddenly I'm not in this horrible place, but watching Dean work on the Impala, handing him his beer at the right moments, hearing his gruff laugh. The music is like a soundtrack to my life, with Dean, and with Dad, one that already feels like a lifetime ago.

Holy shit. I have to get out of here. It's a jolt of understanding that comes to me. Slowly, and with my knowledge, Lucifer's led me to believe him. It's not hard to when much of what he says is true. I get lulled into thinking everything is true.

But there's a lot that isn't, and a lot I don't know.

First, I have to find out where I am. Like I would research for a hunt, I look to books. I scour everything in my room before I move onto the other libraries. I've gotten the impression this place was built before the apocalypse. Everything Lucifer's done implies he's been planning this a long time.

When I'm outside on the deck, I pretend to stare off in the distance, but I'm really studying the vegetation, and compare it to books. This is how I figure out I'm far to the North. But what doesn't make sense, is the seasons don't seem to change here, it's always a colder early winter kinda weather, like when fall ends. There's still plenty of sun, to thaw the morning frost, and some days are even warm enough to be outside without a jacket, but it always feels like it could turn winter any day, but never does. It takes me awhile to suspect it, but with Lucifer's sadistic ocean torture being my number one clue, this place has got to be shrouded in magic. _How else do you do that to an ocean?_ I have no idea what kind of magic can do what's happening here, but that's the route I explore. Quite honestly, it's a bit of a hunch, but Dean always said, there's nothing like a Winchester hunch.

For a long while, my research turns up nothing, and I start to get a bit discouraged, so take my books down to the place where the record player lives, and read with music playing.

I do this for weeks, and I do learn a lot, but nothing that helps me know exactly where I am, or that confirms that this place is under some kind of powerful spell, or how that might be. Then one night, I bolt up out of bed from a nightmare, and remember – the books Lucifer was reading. Could there be something in there? Only problem is they were in Enochian, and while I've learned a bit, I don't know enough to glean anything worthwhile. In some ways, reading Enochian is like reading Shakesphere. I have to cross-reference stuff with history to understand the historical context in order to understand any one word.

Dammit. There's just no way I'm going to learn enough Enochian before Lucifer gets back, and I doubt the books I truly need to look at are easy access. I feel the crush of defeat again. Before I used to hope Dean would abandon any ideas of finding me after a time – if he's still out there – but now I pray he's still looking. Something in my gut tells me Lucifer's made it, so the only way out here would be if I had outside help.

Three months after Lucifer has gone, I finally get a break in the case.

I'm in the music room, reading when I overhear two angels talking. "I don't like that eerie pale moon – he's playing with magic he's not strong enough to handle."

"Shhh, don't talk like that here. Anyone could hear you."

"Well it's making me anxious." An anxious angel? "I need to talk to someone about it. Maybe if a few of us bring it up with him?"

"That's a one way ticket to an angel blade in the chest. Our brother will do what's right. Besides, he will take a mate soon, that will make him powerful enough to handle more complicated magic."

"If only he'd waited that long before igniting said complicated magic," the suspicious angel mutters.

"He wouldn't have been able to keep the Winchester boy here without it."

They carry on down the hallway, and I can't hear them anymore, but my own suspicions are confirmed: Lucifer is using magic to keep me in this place, or at least the magic he's using makes it difficult for me to leave. I recall he said, _this was the only place he could guarantee I wouldn't be able to escape._ I thought he meant because of the creatures who would make sure I didn’t leave, but there was more than that.

I make myself more scarce than I have been, in hopes of catching more conversation. If I had thought they'd be so careless in the first place, I would have started there. I learn some stuff, and I pair it with the stuff I've read.

This whole place is under a powerful spell. When Lucifer returns, I still haven't deciphered what kind of a spell could do that, or how he did it, and it's frustrating my research will have to come to an end. For now.

"Sam? You look… good."

"No thanks to you."

"Ah, we are lippy again, I see. I was hoping for a warmer welcome." He leans against the doorframe to my room. "I am glad you have been eating. I was concerned."

"Concerned? You're not concerned for me. You're concerned for yourself, how this affects you and your plans."

"I'm not going to entertain this, Sam. You want to speak to me, you do it respectfully."

"Go to back to hell, Lucifer."

"You need time out, Sam."

And that's how I got thrown back in the water the second time.

~**~

The cries are stronger this time. Instead of warning me, telling me to go back like the first time, there's the feelings of sadness and fear like they know too much about the fate I'm going to endure. Mostly, the cries are for themselves, and their own suffering, drowning forever with no hope of escape.

When Lucifer pulls me out, it takes longer for me to come back. I'm out of the water, but I still can't breathe, and I claw at my throat. When I can pull air into my lungs again, I start crying for myself, and the others who are still trapped under water. I feel a kinship to them that's grown stronger.

Lucifer enjoys the way I cling to him for dear life, hearing too many cries, feeling too cold, and just wanting the anguish to stop. "It's okay, my Sam. You're here, I'm here, it's going to be fine."

I can feel myself slipping away again, as I hate myself for being stupid enough to talk to him like I did. _Stupid Sam. Stupid. Stupid._ But there is still a shred of me left, a small voice screaming at me, telling me how wrong all of this is. Listening to that voice right now is going to get me killed, or worse. _Drowning forever._

I lock that part of me away, burying it deep, deep, deep…

~SAM: NOW~

"L-Luci? Am I? Where am I?" I don't _think_ I'm in the water, it feels like I can breathe – mostly – but they're so loud I'm not sure. _I need him to tell me. His voice is never in the water._

"Sam. Sammy. I'm here, my love. Right here."

"Keep… keep talking. P-Please keep talking."

He tells me stories for how long I don't know, and what he's saying, I couldn't begin to understand, I just know it's his voice, and that I'm here, and not there. Sometime later, I wake from the haze, in the bed we use for travelling, Lucifer wrapped around me. "W-where are we?"

Lucifer doesn't look good. He looks like a human who hasn't slept in a year. "We've stopped, Sam. Been here a day now. You were… gone." He's worried. "I couldn't snap you out of it, Sammy. I-I-I…" He runs a fraught hand through his hair.

I am compelled to comfort him. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"You're not okay, Sam," he says his eyes growing dark. I start to shake. He forces himself to calm immediately. "Shhhh, shhhh, I'm not getting mad. Not mad, see?" he makes himself smile. "C'mon Sammy, breathe. Breathe, dammit."

I take in slow breaths, and sink into him.

"That's it, Baby."

"Jack. Where's Jack?" I remember. I also remember his face when I was going into my fit. We were riding in the carriage, it suddenly came on, I couldn't stop the screaming.

"He's been anxious to see you. Would you like to see him? Would that help?"

This is a new Lucifer. I can feel a change in the threads of him. He's still him, but he's not the same. "I would. Bring me my boy," I say. I'm sure I have a wild look in my eyes – I'm not right.

_I am different too. The threads of me have changed._

I expect to get slapped hard for that. Lucifer made it clear long ago that I don't make demands of him, but the slap never comes. "I'll get him, Sam."

Lucifer retrieves Jack himself, and Jack races in bounding on the bed. As soon as I look at him, I come back to myself, _enough_.

"Sammy? I have to take care of a few things – please call me if you need me?" _Please?_

"Yeah sure, Luci."

When he's gone, Jack starts to cry. "Oh baby boy. It's okay, I'm okay."

"No you're not. We need to go home."

We do, but the thought scares me. I don't want to be without Lucifer, as bad as I am now, it could be worse. "Soon. I can make it. What have you been up to? Have you seen your friend?"

He shakes his head. "I wanted to stay with you."

"You're with me now, and I am with you." I kiss his head. "I'm strong Jack. You know who made me this way?"

"Who?"

"My big brother. He taught me everything I know. Raised me." I run fingers through his hair. He looks tired. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Well I'm okay for now. Close your eyes, I'll watch over you."

"Who will watch over you?"

"Your father will. He won't let anything bad happen to me."

"He does bad things to you all the time."

At least he knows they're bad.

"He did this to you."

"He didn't mean for this to happen, Jack."

"He must have known he was taking a risk."

"Jack," I say in firm tone. "Be careful what you say about your father."

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry," he says pushing his little head into my chest.

"Shhhh, it's okay. Close your eyes, baby. Sleep, okay?"

Jack closes his eyes and cries himself to sleep.

~DEAN~

Night comes, and I don't know what is going to happen. There's a lot of 'Dean doesn't knows' in fact and it's really pissing me off. I can live with the kind of control Cas has got over me, hell, I can live with not knowing when I'm reasonably sure Cas does, but when every factor seems to be getting away from me, I start to go seriously hunter.

Sammy always told me I get a certain look in my eye, I can feel that look now.

It's dark, and it's late when suddenly the prince is there in a dark cloak. He opens the cell, not seeming to care about too much noise. "What the…? What about the guards?"

I see his amethyst eyes sparkle in the moonlight. "Someday, after you've found your brother, and when my father comes to his senses, come back, and I will tell you more stories, ones which tell you all about fairy magic."

Wow. Okay, fairies are officially fucking cool, despite some of the fairy dicks among them.

"Dean," Cas groans. He doesn't like my friendly fraternizing with the prince, even if he is helping us get out of here.

Right. "So, what's the plan?"

"I've brought help. My most trusted men and women. We will take some untraveled routes through the kingdom, which will take us awhile, I'm afraid."

"Did you happen to bring an antidote of some kind? Or maybe you can use your fairy magic on him?"

He nods. "Jamir is waiting at the top with the antidote, and more warriors, or he will be by the time we get there. We had to split up."

"He can't exactly, walk." And also, if we have to carry him, the old routes, which he's subtly implied are treacherous, are gonna be a real bitch.

"I… have something for that." He's not going to like it I read. "But he will have to stand to get out of here. It's just up the stairs."

"Cas?" I look to Cas, who's already trying to stand up. I rush over to help him before he fucking falls over. "Dammit, Cas." He puts an arm around my neck, as I bring myself up underneath him.

The prince comes over. "I don't know I have the endurance to carry you the whole way, Castiel, but I could fly you up the stairs if you'll allow it."

Any normal creature would accept such an offer. Not Cas. Cas glares at him for asking. "I can make it up the stairs."

_Stubborn, asshole._

He does show us all though, and he does make it up the stairs. Waiting for us there is, oh god, it's basically a fairy version of a wheelbarrow. "This is the best you could do?" Cas hisses. He's suddenly sounding a lot stronger than he had been, his anger fuelling him.

"My apologies Castiel. I would fly you out, could I."

"Very well," Cas says attempting to climb in, but he's too weak to do much, and I have to help him.

Once Cas is loaded like a sack of potatoes, the prince rushes us along. "We don't have a lot of time. This way."

I'm all about that. The faster we get up there, the faster we get that antidote for Cas, and he needs it. Boy does he need it. I take on the responsibility of pushing Cas, knowing how ornery he is right now. He's not likely to want the prince anywhere near him.

The prince wasn't kidding when he said these routes were old and less travelled. There are too many gnarly roots growing every which way, making it nearly impossible to push the wheely-cart-thing in any kind of smooth manner. I jostle Cas all to fuck. It seems to take forever.

The routes are dark, but we light the way with torches, the prince wanting to use minimal magic. I stumble a lot, because I'm trying to move too fast, and I once again thank Father for all of Cas's stupid walking, since I'm fit enough to keep up, even if I'm a little out of breath – the fairy prince and his men are fast.

After a long night of traversing tunnels, I see light. We're going to make it out of here. I take a deep breath when we make it out into the early morning air. It's still dark, the sun likely coming up soon. A fairy is waiting for us. He sighs relief. "Charand," he says. "It was taking so long, I was worried."

The prince embraces him in a swift movement, planting a kiss on his lips. "Jamir. You know I will always make it back to you."

Oh my god, oh my god, that's the prince's lover, isn't it?

If the kiss hadn't already given them away, the adoring look they exchange would. It's clear how much they love each other. "Did you bring the antidote?"

"I did. Have it right here."

I like watching the two of them. Charand's looking at Jamir like he's the most amazing thing on the planet, and Jamir seems almost giggly. They're surrounded in the love they have for each other, and it's the most fucking beautiful thing.

Charand kisses Jamir's lips again, as Jamir reaches into a pouch to pull out a small vile of ruby liquid. "Here it is," he says pulling out of the kiss. Just as Charand reaches for it, it falls from Jamir's hand, and it crashes to the ground, landing on a rock smashing to pieces. Jamir's eyes go wide, and he falls into Charand. Sticking out of his back is an arrow.

"Jamir!"

We're suddenly inundated with arrows. Charand holds up his arm, forming a shield around us with magic. "Blazes! They must have got to my lookouts, none of them have reached out to me. Run Dean," Charand says. "Take Castiel and go. My warriors and I will fend them off."

"But, Jamir, and what will we do without the antidote? Cas isn't going to make it long."

"I can't say I have answers, Dean, but if you don't go now, we won't get another opportunity."

I nod. He's right, not to mention all of this will be for naught if we don't at least try.

"Get a good start away, I will try to resize you once I don't have to maintain this shield," he says.

I doubt he's going to be able to pull that off with all the arrows flying at us, but here's to hoping. I feel somewhat better, when someone helps with Jamir, and others pull out their weapons and begin firing back. Some use magic.

I take off with Cas in the wheel barrow thing, running through the blades of grass that look as thick as slip and slides. Arrows still barrel down at us, but I run in a zig-zag pattern, hoping to fuck none of them hit us. Arrows aren't all they use though, and suddenly there are blasts of fire. "F-Fairy Fire," Cas croaks.

That's A Thing? God fucking dammit. Without much of a plan, or much of anything else I can do really, I just keep running like I am, and rely on the prince and the warriors he brought to do their thing. My part is to get Cas as far away as possible.

But next I know, above me is a glittering light, a fairy is flying toward me at a speed I didn't know was possible with those wings. Fuck. It's the fairy lawyer, Drydon. There's no way I'm going to be able to outrun him, and Cas isn't able to do anything in his state. All I can do is keep running 'till I'm shot, or taken down by fuckface.

Speaking of fuckface, he lifts a hand, probably to blast me – I doubt he's trying to kill me, I think knocking me out is their aim, but still – and I think it's game over, but suddenly he's knocked from the sky in a charged flash of light. "Charand?"

Charand is about to engage in battle with Drydon. They're both on the ground now, facing each other, circling. "Run, Dean," Charand says.

"I am dude, but we have a _little_ problem," I say hoping he'll catch my drift. We need to be big again. That's our only hope against these bright-lighted douchebags.

"You dare fight your prince?" Charand says to Drydon.

"I do not wish to fight you, your highness. But I will carry out the king's orders."

After that, a lot of things happen quickly and all at once. I think Charand is going to blast the fuck out of Drydon (which yes, I stick around to watch), but instead he sends a purple stream of magic toward Cas and I. The last thing I see before everything turns into white bursts of light, is Charand being enveloped in a shimmery pink sheen of glitter-like light from Drydon, and then they are too small to see anymore.

Charand used his last open opportunity to resize us, and I'll never get to see what happened to him, or Jamir, to know if they're okay. I don't know why he would do so much for us, but I don't waste his final gift, I run like the wind, pushing Cas, while he bobs uncomfortably in the wheel-y-cart. We're not out of the woods yet, not by far. Also, I don't know where the hell I'm going in my mad dash. I have to rely on how much I can feel the magic of this place.

It's not long before a swarm of them are buzzing around my head, and I'm not fucking around anymore. I've seen how dangerous these little blights can be, I see how they won't stop until they get what the king wants, and that's not happening. They want to fight, fine, but they're gonna lose this one. I will protect myself.

With a giant clap, I take out a bunch of them. "You little assholes can go away now, or I'm going to keep clapping, and it ain't gonna be the kind that brings fairies back to life."

They pause their attack, considering my words, and then thankfully buzz the fuck off. I don't question it, and keep running, running, running, hoping to fuck for a miracle, because beyond getting away, I still don't know how I'm going to save Cas.

SAM ~After the _Before_ , before the _After_

I abandon the idea of leaving, but I don't abandon my study project. I think about just asking Lucifer where we are, and maybe I still will, but having a project it gives me something to focus on, and without the urgency of leaving, I can settle into it; distract myself. He does help me learn Enochian, and the lessons aren't as bad as I thought they would be.

We have… fun, and when a person is in a position like mine, fun is a balm.

I am sitting with my back rested against him in the large bay window looking out to the shoreline, and the eerie sea. His fingers in my hair, which has grown longer, feel good, and I read as much as I can until I get stuck and have to ask him. He's adoring, and patient, all of which results in feelings of calm that I relish in. When he's this way I don't have to be scared of him. I want to stretch that feeling out forever.

"I can't quite grasp the context of this word, Luci," I say pointing it out to him. Enochian is fascinating. Learning each letter and how the combinations translate into words is not enough to understanding the complex language. Not only are there clever nuances, much of what I'm reading was written so long ago, some of the ways they used the words then, are different than how they would use them now. The meaning I would read into a sentence, might not be how it was intended, based on historical context of the day.

"Let me see, darling. Ah yes, that. _Architect_."

"Yes. The way it's written here makes it sound like an architect doing magic, but that can't be right."

"Once again my brilliant mate has figured it out, even when he doesn't think he has." He refers to me as his mate even though we are not mated.

"I have?"

"Mmmm-hmmm."

"Is architecture a form of magic?"

"Yep."

"But this man, Roark the architect, he was human."

"He was, but he was mated to an angel."

"I've not read anywhere that mating with an angel can give a human the ability to do magic."

"That's because most books don't know, or refuse to acknowledge the legend of the Profound Bond."

"That's what enabled this?"

"Sort of. The Profound bond gave Roark the ability to understand magic, he still needed his angel's grace to carry out the magic."

Something's off about the way he says all of that, but I can't place it. "Is that really doing magic though, if you don't have the grace to ignite the spell?"

"The angel could not have known how to put magic that powerful together, without the understanding, and creativity Roark brought to the equation. That is a true piece of some kinds of magic, the organization."

"It almost sounds like you admire this Roark," I tease. It's not often I hear an angel speaking highly of a human, let alone Lucifer, even a human that sounds like he was no longer human.

"Of course I do. He contributed a great deal to the knowledge of magic and how to use grace in ways angels never could have imagined."

I feel an odd jealousy for Roark. I am a pawn in Lucifer's grand plan; Lucifer admires this man. But then I remember that earning the admiration of a creature gone mad isn't something to strive for. I doubt Roark had such goals. From what I read, he wanted to be creative, to give to the community by showing what they could create and achieve, to inspire them to live, which is nothing like Lucifer's goals. Lucifer is taking the something good, and using it for bad. I figure it out. "This is what you used. Where we are, this palace, you used Roark's methods."

"Very good, Sammy," he purrs. "And I'll tell you something else, a reward for your intelligence. I followed the advice of a prophecy, and began building this place long before the apocalypse." Which is what made it possible at all. Architect magic takes time, and thinking. "I built this place to hold you, my love. I knew things would be difficult at first. It's come in handy for other stuff as well."

I stare out to the sea feeling a pang of sadness. "Was I even born when you began this place?"

"No." He's proud. "But I knew you would come, and I waited patiently for you to be born to this Earth again."

"That day," he'll know which one, "you knew I was there in the crowd, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you take me then?"

He threads his hands deep to the roots of my hair, and turns my head in a gentle, but firm way, holding me at the perfect angle to kiss me. The kiss takes my breath away, and I sink into it. "Because Sammy," he says when he's done kissing me. "There is a gorgeous quality to anticipation. I loved when I'd look out to the crowd, and see your eyes riveted on me in terror, unable to look away, and know that one day soon, you were going to be mine; already were even if you didn't know it. Mine. Out there to pluck from freedom at a time of my choosing."

I shiver. It's already happened, yet the thought of me sitting there, not knowing how my life was about to change is still terrifying. Ironically, I seek his comfort, closing the book, and curling into him. He gives me what I want, putting his arms around me to make me feel safe.

"Don't worry my Sam, you're here now, and you can never leave. I've made sure of it."

He really has. I've known for sometime now Dean was my only way out of here, and that was when I thought there was a more simple magic being used on this place, and a few demons and angels to stand guard. Lucifer's used architecture magic in a way it was never meant to be used, but in any case, it's unbreakable especially to 'mere' human. Hell, Dean won't even be able to find this place.

_The only way I'm leaving this place is with Lucifer's permission._

It's the loss of hope that brings the tears.

"Don't cry, Sam. You'll be happy here eventually. I will make you happy."

I don’t mean to, but I nod into his chest. _What's happening to me?_

"C'mon, tell me how clever I am?"

"You are clever Luci, so much so, I can't begin to imagine why you would need me?"

"You haven't read the other book I gave you at all, have you?"

I shake my head feeling chastised.

"You know enough Enochian now to start. Read it."

I nod again, not wanting to think about it really, but he's ordered me too now. It's going to be something terrible, and I don't know I can handle that kind of terrible right now. I need a distraction, to feel something else, something powerful. "L-Luci, will you, I need you to _touch me_."

I feel him smile above me and I preen at having made him so happy. Later I'll hate myself, I'll be mad at him, and me, but that's later and this is now, and now I want what he can give me. This isn't the first time. There have been many late nights with Lucifer in my bed, fondling my cock, pulling the most magnificent orgasms out of me. Most of the time I beg him for it. "I don't think so, you can do better than that. Tell me how bad you need me."

" _Please._ Please play with my cock, Luci," I breathe. "I'm desperate for it."

"Why do you need me? Can't you play with your own, cock?"

"You do it best. You know what I need."

"Mmmmm."

He slides his hand down my pants, and I arch back into him, eyes closed, sinking into the sensations. "Mmmmmm…Huhmmmm, yeah, please, fuck yeah," I moan as I move my hips in time with this hand.

"Just wait 'till my cock is buried deep inside you, Baby. This is going to feel even better," he says, sucking on my neck, which is open for him.

Somehow, he knows just how to stroke me, so that every movement has me writhing on the edge of tomorrow. I climb higher, and higher, until he slows down, only to build me higher again. All of it works for me, and I come hard into his hand. The endorphins spread throughout my body, giving me a short high, a hit, like a drug.

"Come, Sam. Enough reading for today. Let's get you cleaned up."

He pulls me off the bay window with him. Briefly, I look back to the sea; it immobilizes me. Lucifer tugs my hand sharply. "Sam?"

I shake away the confusion, and follow him to wherever.


	12. A Dean Winchester Guide to Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> August 18th, 2019  
> ______________________
> 
> I've been off finishing, editing and posting Winchester Way, but I have been working on this chapter among other things. Today, though, I must clean my house, which is my least favorite thing ever. At least I get to do yoga later. 
> 
> I had a few goals for the first part of this chapter, ones set for me by the characters of course. I wasn't explicit though. Will be interesting to see what you guys take from it. 
> 
> This story, man. I tell you. It's coming from the deepest depths of my soul. 
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying. Love you all, Mocky

DEAN ~ Before the After, after the before

Cas is done with me, so done. He throws me into a wall soon as we enter the derelict cabin, and I smash into everything in my path to the wall. Fuck, my back and my hip are going to be bruised to fuck. I'm not stupid enough to think he'll stop there. I want to lie there and wallow in my misery – I'm so tired at the brutal pace he's made me walk for days. _Unrelenting bastard._

I manage to get up just before he grabs me again. Instinctively, I want to fight him, but that's what this whole thing is about. Instead, I fight the urge to fight him, and let him grab me and throw me again. "Cas, I'm sorry," I try, so he'll calm the fuck down.

I take a trembling breath, because it's scary, okay? I'm no stranger to a big scary fight, with monsters that can tear me limb from limb, but at least at those times, I get to fight. I'm supposed to _let_ him beat the shit out of me. That's what makes it more terrifying. _Vulnerability._

I'm no stranger to pain either, but when I'm the kind of tired like I am now, any human – even one imbibed with angel-juice – is going to want to stop being hurt. He grabs me again though, and I brace myself. I don't bother to get up after that. I do plead for some mercy. "Cas, please."

"You can't even beg properly."

Oh. Right. Before he can grab me again, I get to my knees, and bow at his feet, shaking. "I'm sorry, Cas," I say with as much deference as possible. That's what he wants. He pauses, and I bask in the reprieve. I feel like I've been running a marathon for days, with a sprint ending, I feel dirty, gross-dirty, (haven't washed in too many days, and Cas hasn't been able to mojo clean me dirty), I'm caked with blood for various reasons, and I'm stressed to fuck because I can't do anything to please the angel I _stupidly_ bonded with. I'm a foolish mother fucker. To top everything off, I hurt all over. Not only have I had to fight demons and God knows what other things we've stripped apart, but this is not the first beating I've received in the past few days.

Cas has been unhappy with me. I think he wishes he'd never bonded with me.

"Oh now he's on his knees for me. You could have done so moments ago, and we would have avoided all of this. I'll do anything you say. I'll obey you. When I say jump, you'll say how high, Castiel." Pretty sure I didn't promise that last part, but I get it, I made him promises and I'm shit at keeping them. "You are the most disobedient mate I've ever had. I should kill you and be done with it."

That's pretty much the only way out of this now, for one of us to die. Another angel could challenge Cas for me, but it's not so simple. Not only would I have to agree – which Cas is the only fucking angel I'm ever bonding with, let me tell you – but so would the angel, and angel's don't go around picking up humans, especially disobedient ones their first angel considered defective. I'm bound to get the worst reference from Cas ever.

I don't have to pretend to be scared of him, as I shake on the floor, hoping he'll take pity. Some days, I'm ready to throw in the towel, and with how tired I am today even I'm surprised this isn't one of them, but it's not, and I don't feel like dying today.

"Stand up," he says not giving anything away.

I do, almost falling over. Fuck. I think my foot got seriously hurt in that last round of Dean Ball. I take a hitched pull of air, and keep my eyes from showing too much of anything except submissiveness, and surrender myself to what he will do.

"There, that's what I want. None of your lipping me off, or arguing, or complaining, just you doing as you're told. You're going to regret your misbehaviour. Undress."

I almost, _almost_ ask why. I'm me. Of course the question is on the tip of my tongue, but now is not the time. Technically it never is, but as much as Cas has figured out some things about me, I've figured out some things about him. He likes my sassiness. There's just a line, and I've crossed it. In my defence, I never mean to.

With tears streaming down my face, I obey him removing my clothes, baring myself to the cold air. I'm wearing nothing but his collar, the one he still doesn't see fit to remove, even though he's told me I don't have to wear it all the time. It's been months, and woe-be-tide me if I even think about asking when he'll take it off.

"Kneel," he says, and I do immediately. The ground is hard on my bruised knees. "Tuck your toe pads under, very good. Spread your knees apart, now lean back."

I'm a bit confused by what he means, but I try, leaning onto my heels. It's the least uncomfortable position ever, especially with all the other discomforts that are plaguing me. It’s murder on my hurt foot. It's still not enough for him.

"Place your hands back on your heels, and arch your torso forward."

I do, and it pulls to Christ on my quad muscles. My toes already hurt. Everything is straining.

"Comfortable? Tell me the truth."

"Not even a little bit, sir." I want to cry at my helplessness, because sure, there are no bonds holding me here, but Cas doesn't need bonds. If I don't complete this task, he'll either find a way to make me that will be less pleasant, or simply find something less pleasant. All I can do is attempt to control my breathing, and focus on anything but the pain. Easier said than done.

"Good. We should have been doing more training like this in the first place, there just hasn't been time. This will help you to be more obedient. Believe it, or not, I don't relish in beating you _every_ day."

 _Yeah, not every day, but some days._ I do get that sense though. Don't get me wrong, there are times he fucking loves to hurt me, but sometimes he finds it a chore. He also considers what he calls 'my discipline' important, and won't relent for anything.

"Yes, sir," I say hoping my manners will buy me out of whatever this is, as soon as fucking possible. It hurts, and I want up so bad. It's not just pain though, it's that burning sensation like when you're working out, and you just _have_ to stop holding a position, or put a weight down. That freaking, drive-you-mad, irritating burn.

"The point is suffering for me, Dean. You don't have control over the how, or the what, or even the when. Just that you want to."

That doesn't make any sense. I _don't_ want to do this. I'm doing this only because he's making me. Whatever he means, I don't worry about for now, I've got more on my plate than whatever stupid thing he's talking about. I put my focus to not falling over.

"Look at that," he says. "I've observed something else about you. You like this even if you are extremely uncomfortable right now. It's thrilling for you. Can you feel how heavy your cock is?"

He's right, and when he runs a lone finger down it, it's all the more obvious that I'm turned on by all of this even while genuinely fucking hating it. _I make no sense._

"I imagine it must be rather embarrassing for you, naked, exposed, in terrible pain with nothing you can do about it. You like that too."

I want to retort with, 'you want me to thank for you this, Cas?' but that would be foolish. Besides, he's right.

"Answer me."

Thankfully my cheeks are already red with exertion, because I flush with embarrassment having to admit it. "Yes, sir."

I'm straining in several places, my muscles are reaching their breaking point, and I don't know how much longer I can hold on. He doesn't release me though. He stands over me, watching me suffer, while I go back and forth between begging and staying quiet. Though I'm not exactly stone quiet. I'm grunting with effort, and my breath is heavy with exertion.

The muscles and tendons of my pelvis feel like they're just barely hanging on, and my body's shaking, running out of the juice required to continue. Finally, when I think I'm going to fall over, Cas releases me. "All right, time's up, but we're not done. Get on your hands and knees."

Anything feels like heaven compared to that murderous position. I gladly obey, with the more relief I've ever felt in my life.

"Turn and face the wall, good. Now sit your hips back, arms extended, knees wide enough to spread you open for me."

When he's done instructing me, I'm prostrated before the wall, spread wide open for him.

"Bet you're pretty happy to be bowing now," he says and fuck am I ever. "You will stay like this for the night feeling grateful about it."

All… all night?

"And Dean? Don't you dare fall asleep."

I nod into the floor. "Yes, sir." It doesn't take long until I'm sobbing into the floor, which Cas lets me do for a time until he's berating me again.

"What's the matter with you? You should be grateful for my mercy. Do you need to spend more time in the other position?"

God no. I'm pretty sure I pulled something in my groin doing that. I don't say it though. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just so tired. I want to do this for you, I do, but I'm afraid I won't be able to."

Already I've noticed Cas is a helluva a lot kinder when I'm not being lippy. Funny that. _It's just, lippy is my state of being._ He's still a hardass, but he's not as dick-ish. "You are a strong human. You can do it, and you will. Remember what I said? _Want_ to please me. _Want_ to suffer for me. I know this isn't going to be easy, it's not meant to be." He crouches down to stroke my hair. "I'm going out."

I cut off a whine, and I almost get up, but Cas holds my head down. It doesn't matter what he does to me, I need to be near him.

"Stop it. You need food, and you smell foul. I have to get supplies. Focus on doing this for me, and you'll be fine. Fall asleep, and I will know. Maybe twenty minutes in the first position will wake you up enough, should I discover you have been sleeping in this one, hmmmm?"

No! And fucking Cas will know somehow. I don't know how, just that he will. I'm not going to fucking fall asleep.

Cas being able to leave is yet another way he shows how much stronger he is than I. I don't initiate us separating even for a short time, and even when I'm super fucking pissed at him.

Sure, I've told him to go once he's _already_ said he's leaving, but I don't _initiate_. It feels awful, and I shudder to think what it would have been like for me if I had let him walk out of town that day. Things have gotten better in that regard, I don't need to be near him in quite the same way as when we first bonded, but it's still really sucky.

It's been about three months, us on the road together, and there's been a fucking learning curve, but one thing's always been clear, he owns my ass and not the other way around. I can go ahead and be a lippy little shit, but this is where it's going to land me, or worse.

"You're going to spend some time here working on obedience, and I will be back when I'm back."

"Y-Y-Yes, sir. Um," sniff, "but Cas—"

"—I swear to Father Dean, if you offer one more objection to something I say rather than obeying me—"

"—no sir, nothing like that. I was just… what if someone, or something comes in that's not you?"

"You may only break form if you're in danger. _No_ other reason. Am I clear?"

In other words, no bathroom breaks. Got it. Joy. Dean Winchester thy name is Fool. Why do I take it this far? "Yes, sir."

"I mean it, your brother waltzes in here for tea, you stay where you are until _I_ tell you to move."

"Yes, sir," I say again even though I'm getting irritated. I don't need anymore fucking examples. I hate this. I hate more than I'm fucking turned on by this whole debacle. I want Cas to go, so he can come back. The anticipation of him leaving always gets me.

Finally, he does leave. I can feel it, and the sensation of anxiety mixed with that heavy unsettled feeling seeps in. It's like the feeling of love ending. I know he'll come back, but it feels like he's gone for good, and I'm distracted thinking only of him, and when the fuck is he coming back?

After wallowing for awhile, I remember what I'm supposed to be doing. I've still got a lot to learn about Cas, but one thing's certain, he's thorough when he teaches lessons, and I'd like to sleep at some point in the near future. I replay what happened.

It wasn't any one thing. It's been days, and weeks of what Cas considers disobedience. When he says something he expects it done. No arguing, and no questions. I basically do the opposite. Not on purpose. I really am trying. Habits die hard though. With Sammy, I was in charge for the most part. I was in charge when it was Boydega and I. Was really only Dad who I submitted to in any fashion, and that feels so long ago I'd pretty much forgotten what it was like.

_You don't have control… only that you want to._

That sounds fucked up, but I think I get it. Was like that with my old man. I could decide I wanted to obey him, or that I didn't want to, but I'd still be obeying him in the end. Deciding I wanted to made things a helluva lot easier.

As much as I am trying, it's easy to tell I don't want to a lot of the time.

I feel good having figured that part out, even if I know it's going to be easier said than done. The next bit is about the suffering, and therefore the surrender. Those are tied to wanting to as well. To surrender is to let go. Letting go – especially for someone like me – is hard. I don't let go of much easily. When you let go, you can surrender to anything, even suffering and in a way the suffering is cancelled because are you suffering if you've truly surrendered?

When I feel I've sufficiently pondered what I know Cas will want me to, including finding ways to curb my insolent tongue and be the obedient mate he desires, well, most of the time, I'm left to wait.

By this point, my bruised knees hurt, and my body aches from being in this position for so long. Despite the cool air that was helping keep me awake before, I'm now in serious danger of nodding off. To the point I'm praying for a demon to come in to attack me, just to wake me up some.

I'm terrified to fall asleep, but it doesn’t stop the call. My eyes want to close, and oh how good that would feel. There's a reason sleep deprivation was used as a form of torture. The feeling of comfort that would await me, knowing all I have to do is close my eyes, and having to resist that.

Bone weary, my body begins to lull into relaxation despite my position. I'm so sleepy, it feels like I've taken a draught that makes my head hazy, and my eyes want to close. It's an almost undeniable pull toward unconsciousness. My whole body feels heavy, my eyelids even heavier, the temperature has gone from chill to just right, and I want to float… away.

I shake my head, and cry out to the quiet room about my frustrations. That… actually helps me stay awake, so I do that until it starts to make me more tired. I do everything I can think of, from blinking really hard, to rapping my head on the ground. Cas didn't say no drumming to Metallica, so I do that, and sing.

The aching in my muscles from holding this position so long helps with staying awake, but not with the holding of the position, which brings tears to my eyes. It's a miserable night for me as I fight sleep, the aching of my joints, and the anxiety of Cas being gone.

When Cas returns, he lets me know it, so I don't think he's an intruder. "Dean, I'm back. Stay."

"Yes, sir," I say in a hoarse voice. I'm so fucking happy he's back. I want to run to him and hide my face against his chest, under his stupid khaki jacket forever.

It's still dark out, but the air of early morning is approaching. _I can do this. I can last all night for Cas._

I lose myself in the concentration of staying awake, so much so I am caught off guard when Cas crouches down to run a hand through my hair. "Good boy, you're almost there."

I'm not sure I can recollect anytime Cas praising me in the past months. It's not something I would normally _need_ , but in this moment, it's a light in a dark tunnel. I'm doing it right, or well, 'right' as is defined by Cas, which is the kind of right to be concerned with at the moment.

Cas says I'm almost there, but each second trying to stay awake is agony. Between the ache in my joints, and the sheer misery trying to remain awake when I need sleep to the point of pain. "Come on, Dean. Do it for me. Focus on staying awake for me."

That's right. I figured all that shit out, but I never really did any of it. _For him, for him, for him._ That seems to lull me into a sense of calm beyond the pain. The pain never dulls, but it feels like I can bare it.

"All right, time for us to get going, you may get up now."

Reality breaks me from the cocoon of calm I was in, and it's a rude awakening, as I realize we're going back on the road where we will be continuing at Cas's punishing pace, and I want to cry. Fuck it, I am crying. Tears leak from my eyes, as I make my way off the ground. It's not easy, with my limbs as they were all night, they're achy and fucking sore. I groan, as I try to stretch out enough to get mobile again.

I stand, unable to put much weight on my right leg. He throws clothes at me. "M-May I have some water, Cas?" I say, my voice all fucking croak-y, as I struggle to pull on my pants.

He nods and appraises me. "I'll get you some."

Cas usually doesn't wait on me, which is why a simple gesture like that stands out. He fishes what I've got in my pack out and hands it to me. "Is it your foot, or your leg?" he asks.

"Foot," I say breaking from dressing – which proves exhausting – to take a long sip. I don't miss how he's looking at my bare torso. One thing I've learned about angels is how fucking horny they are, at least Cas requires sex, a lot. We must have to get going if he's in one of those moods, and he hasn't taken me by now.

Cas takes me, I don't take him. Another rule we cleared up along the way. One I didn't end up minding so much. It's super hot knowing he could take me at any time he chooses. Well, except for times like now I guess, when he wants to, but we have to move. "I'd prefer not to use my grace right now, but you're not much good like that." All of it stated like it's my fault I'm in the position I'm in, and I suppose from Cas's perspective it is. _If I behaved, he wouldn't have to throw me into walls._ He's such a fucking dick.

 _That's what happens when you toss me like a fucking football,_ is what I want to say, but I remember to still my flippant tongue. "I wish I could say I'd be fine, sir, but yeah, I won't be able to keep up."

He's not happy about that. "Sit," he grunts pulling out a wooden chair that's surprisingly sturdy. I watch, almost holding my breath, as he carefully takes my foot in his hand inspecting it. If I didn't know better, I could easily mistake the way he's behaving as care. He doesn't have to be gentle with my foot, I know, he's been decidedly not gentle with my injuries in past. "Stop your pouting," he says not looking at me, just the foot.

"I'm…" I stop my protest, because yeah I am a bit. He left me. I don’t care about the rest of it (I'm learning there's not much sense in holding anger at him over who he is), as much as I care about that he left, and there's not even time for him to hold me.

He allows grace to trickle out to the spot in my foot his inspection has concluded is the issue. First there's shocking pain, and I grip the edges of the seat, trying not to scream, and then there's instant relief as the tissue inside knits back together, leaving only a slight itchy feeling. I move it around, flexing and extending my toes, as he sets it down. "Feels good, thanks Cas."

I somehow manage to keep up to him for the next few hours, he seems in a hurry to get away from the little shack, I am too to be honest, even if I don't know what we're running from, was fucking eerie in there.

Daylight's never felt so good, even if I've had no sleep, and my body hurts. Thank God for adrenaline. I eat a few of the power bars Cas found for me on his night time adventure, as we walk, and I do okay for a bit, but eventually my body gives out on me, and I'm tripping, and almost falling to break my neck. Cas is annoyed at my human weaknesses, staring down at me from where I've fallen on the ground. "You've behaved, I suppose you've earned sleep. Two hours is all we can spare."

I don't ask questions. I'm so tired; I collapse at his feet.

We carry on like that for days, Cas seeming to be in more of a rush than usual, him only allowing me a scant amount of sleep, making me clean myself when we find a river. When we finally reach a village, I do get my hopes up that I've behaved well enough to have earned a full night's sleep, there could be a bed here!

I remember what Cas has taught me about being an angel mate in public. I remain close to him, but two steps behind, as if I'm wearing an invisible leash attached to my collar. We walk right in, no security to stop us, much like Gadreel's town. We've come across a few villages like this, since the time we left Gadreel's.

Cas seems to know where he's going. He speaks to the angel of this village, and like that we have a room. Once we're there, he does something I don't expect. "Kneel."

I do immediately, and without argument, not even a sassy comment. I do eye him wearily, wondering what he's going to do to me now. Cas's first mission since I became his mate is to get me to understand he'll do anything to me, at anytime he pleases, for any reason, or no reason at all.

He reaches to my neck, and there's a soft _zing_ as the collar releases. He's removed his collar. _What the hell does that mean?_ I look up at him, afraid to move, or to say anything. "Go put this in your pack, and undress."

I'm probably supposed to say, yes sir, but all I can do is nod, my mind racing trying to figure out why he would do such a thing. We're in a village, with other people. Doesn't he want them to know I'm his?

When I've done as asked, and am standing naked before him, he starts removing his belt, and I start to shake. He is _brutal_ with that thing. "B-but, Cas? What have I done?"

"Don't you know?"

I shake my head, trying not to cry, but a tear spills out and down my cheek.

"You have become mate to an angel." His voice is gruff in a way that makes my cock hard. _Stupid cock._ Cas notices, and almost smiles. "I like that very much," he says running a finger up my cock, making me shiver is the sweetest of way, grabbing me from behind the neck, pulling me into a hot kiss."

From there, violence ensues. Cas paints hot stripes onto my bare skin, and I'm sure everyone all across the village can hear me screaming. All the while, my cock is hard, and I hear myself whimper through the screams for him to please fuck me. When I've begged him enough, he does, and I get to come, hard.

I thought I was exhausted before, but little did I know what the word meant until this moment, barely any sleep in I don't know how long, my flesh burning from the sting of his belt, and then taken in the best of ways. He's got me lying on top of him, my naked, bleeding skin stuck to his, card a hand through my hair as I pant, and catch my breath. I realize in this moment I would have climbed higher mountains, suffered much more pain to get here.

I don't know if it's the bond fucking with my head, but there's something about Cas that makes me want to cling to him like a baby koala, no matter what the fuck he'll ever do to me. He wants obedience? then I will give it to him. Best I can anyway, this is still me I'm talking about. I nuzzle my way into him further, and let our bond surround us, sinking into that too, like it's a blanket, which I turn into my cocoon. Cas seems to relax too feeling what I feel.

I fall asleep, and wake up with a start panicked, because Cas didn't say I could. Also, I haven't even said my prayers. Cas is very strict about that. "Cas I'm sorry, I—"

"—shhh. You may sleep now. That's why I brought you here."

"Oh. Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Why'd you take your collar off me?"

"I know you don't like wearing it."

"Since when do you care about what I like and what I don't?" I ask, suddenly feeling brave, popping my head up to look at him.

He pushes my head back down on his chest, roughly. "I don't _need_ you to wear it now."

What the hell does that even mean? I don't ask him that, because he's terrifying, and I can tell he's not in the best of moods even if the violence, and the sex has released him some. To my surprise he continues some. "The marks will do for now. You've proven your loyalty to me."

Oh. _Oh._ I get it. "It's not like I can run away, Cas." And does he forget the times like the other night, when I almost had a panic attack at the thought of him being gone for a few hours?

"No but, that doesn't make you mine beyond ownership. Your surrender truly makes you mine."

"What? But you're always going on about how you own me, blah, blah, blah, you don't listen as you should, and other stuff like that you say so much I've kind of drown it out."

"Owning is not the same as someone giving you surrender." He sighs, put out with me. "Are you always going to be so cheeky?"

I lift my head again, so he can see me smiling. "It's part of my charm, Cas."

He shoves my head back down again. I know what I feel from him though, he likes my charm even if he doesn't want to. "You do have it though, Cas." In a short time, and for seemingly no reason at all, I've become attached to the angel. I don't know what capacity they have for love, or care, but it doesn't matter. It's my choice to feel what I feel beyond whatever influence the bond has. I choose Cas, and I'm committed.

"Prove it, and go back to sleep."

I try, but then I remember. "Cas?"

"What now?" he says, his irritation growing.

"Shouldn't we say a prayer?"

"Dear Father, we thank you for your grace this day, allowing us to get to safety, and for this room, which my mate can use to get the rest he needs, if he ever obeys me and goes to sleep. Amen."

That was a lame prayer at best, but before I can asks him what his hurry is, he shushes me. "If I have to use my grace to put you back to sleep, there will be consequences."

Fine. I yawn, not saying another word, and burrow my way yet further into Cas. I am pretty fucking tired, and there's sure to be more walking ahead of us. It's exhausting just thinking about it. _Sigh._ But I would do it all again. I will do it all again. Fight him, have him bring me to heel. I'm starting to believe he always will.

DEAN

"St-stop," Cas says after a long time of me running. I do.

"Aren't you worried they'll get us, Cas?"

"For one thing, you'll never be able to run all the way back to Balthazar's, as for the other, fairies aren't likely to journey past their home. Their powers dim, the further they are away from it."

"You said _likely_ , that means they still could."

"Yes, but you'd have a better chance against them."

"I'm just lucky they didn't all turn big and blast me. Not that I'm complaining, but why didn't they?"

"Because they cannot. The energy that supplies their magic is limited and shared. Only a few could at once, and the leader of the charge makes that decision. My guess is it was Drydon, and he was a little occupied."

"Do you think that means Charand okay? Maybe he took Drydon out?" Fuck I hope so.

"I don't know, but I do know I never want to hear about _Charand_ again."

Whoa. Touchy. "Yes, sir. So, what do we do? Head this way back to Balthazar's"

"No."

"What?"

"Balthazar's is back through the Fairylands, you went the wrong way."

"Fuck! Why didn't you say something Cas?"

"I tried, but you couldn't hear my weakened voice over the commotion, besides, I don't think we would have made it back that way, anyhow."

I have officially reached freaking the fuck out. "What are we supposed to do? Tell me what to do Cas."

"Just keep walking, Dean."

He's got nothing. I've got nothing. This is horseshit. I obey him though, realizing it may be one of the last orders I ever get from him.

~**~

I walk for miles. To where I don't know, but I don't keep a pace like Cas does. What's the point? Cas is either out again, or barely there, and I get another jolt of fear, these roads are dangerous, not a good idea to go alone, we fight together, what if we meet up with the wrong sorts him passed out like this?

_Pull it to-fucking-gether, Winchester._

I'm letting the spiral of fear pull me down, and I cannot fail Cas like that, or myself. I remember what I used to tell Sammy when shit got real tough, and I didn't know what the fuck to do. _I'm Dean Winchester, and I can do anything._ I used to get him to repeat it when he was younger too. _I'm Sam fucking Winchester and I can do anything._ Yeah, I tried to teach Sammy to swear. It didn't catch 'till later.

Instead of thinking about all the shit that could go wrong, I focus on what could go right. That's how I get an idea. "Cas, Cas! There a way _around_ the fairy sanctuary?"

"Of course there is, but it's long, longer than the other route and that was too long. We're better off going this way. There's another community if we keep heading northeast." Cas's voice sounds so weak.

"There is?" That brings me a lot of hope. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because of that, what you're feeling right now. Don’t get your hopes up Dean. It's too far, I wouldn't make the shorter route, I'm not going to make the longer."

"Fuck that, Cas, I will get you there." I pick up to the best Cas-worthy pace with me pushing him as I can. But after two days with no food, and little water along the way, my endurance begins to wane.

I wish I didn't have to stop to rest, but I have to, and I have to find something to eat, or I'm gonna be no good for anything. Cas is out again; he's out more than he's alert, and anything I feel coming from him is weak as hell. "Cas? Cas? I don't know if you can hear me, but I have to try and find something to eat, and drink." My lips and mouth are so dry they're cracking, I can barely say words. He doesn't respond. I slip my handgun, and water satchel from my pack, but leave my pack with Cas, and hope to fuck nothing gets him while I'm gone. _Don’t think like that, Winchester._ "I won't go far."

I leave Cas as hidden as I can in the brush, and slip quiet as I can through the trees. There's still plenty of daylight left, but it's not the best for hunting animals. I finally get a break though, and find myself two nice-sized birds, and also a little brook. Water never tasted so good, even if it hurts my dry lips. I drink and drink, and fill up my satchel.

I head back feeling pretty good, and it's hitting me how lonely it's going to be when Cas is gone. Because I'm realizing, he is going to be gone. I'm still a long ways away from anything, and Cas is barely there. I'm trying to accept the inevitable, and talk myself into going on.

'Cause I kinda feel like packing it in here, with Cas. Cas has said so himself, I won't be able to kill Lucifer, and even if I could, where will they be by the time I get to Gabriel's? Probably back to whatever hole Lucifer dragged Sammy into.

My good luck runs out. When I return, Cas is… gone. "Cas? Cas!" I start shouting it into the nothing. Of course he doesn't answer. Then I notice them, drag marks. Someone, or _something_ dragged Cas's vessel out of here. Fuck. I throw the birds in the wheel-y-cart thing, and start rolling it forward, following where the drag marks lead.

I'm mad now, _pissed_ and I don't care what happens. Whatever I encounter is going to be dead, so fucking dead when I find them. The marks stop before the entrance of a cave, not too far off from where I'd left Cas. I grab a knife from my pack and slip it the back of my pants, I approach carefully with my gun ready to fire if need be.

The sun is going down, but there's still enough light poking through the holes of the cave, which is lucky for me, since I've got nothing to light the way. I know Cas is in here, I'm starting to be able to feel him, again. Barely. His life force is weak.

The tunnel stops at the mouth of another entrance, the feeling of Cas is stronger. Before I head in to face whatever's there, I hear it, a low, gurgling sound. Holy shit, some kind of creature has Cas. My heart's beating a million miles a minute, and I have to talk myself into heading around the bend. But fuck whatever it is, it took Cas and I'm sick of this whole fucking adventure. I just want to be back to the road, where Cas and I belong. Home.

Taking a deep breath, I throw myself around the corner, _quietly_. I see it. It's a creature all right, but I don't know what the fuck it is. And there's two. One large one and one that looks like it's just a baby. I figure out quick though that the large one isn't moving, it's dead. The poor thing's lost its mother.

It's pitifully trying to offer Cas to its mama, probably hoping to revive it. I'm probably going to get eaten in the process, but I carefully come out from hiding, its little head swivels my way, opens its mouth, and a gust of fire swooshes toward me. I only just dodge out of the way.

Oh my fuck, is this a dragon?

If it is, do dragons know human, because that's all I got. I put my hands up to show it I'm not here to harm. "Hey, hey now, I'm not gonna hurt you little guy." It is little compared to its mama, but it's still a decent size when comparing it to me. About the size of a baby elephant, but with wings.

I don't know if it understands me, recognizes my tone of voice is non-threatening, or just wants to know what I am before it eats me, but it peers curiously at me. I let it sniff me up and down. When it's done, it starts gurgling again and making a pleased sort of trilling sound. It hops around excited. I think… I think it likes me. "That's right, we're cool. So very cool, yeah?"

I don't know if it understands me, but it starts nudging at me, bringing me over to its mama. _It wants me to help._ This is it, this is where I actually get eaten by a dragon isn't it? I begin checking the beast over, and part of me hopes she's still alive for the baby's sake, but she isn't. I try to break the news. "I'm sorry dude, she's gone."

It decides to have a little baby dragon temper tantrum, screeching, and blowing fire everywhere. I have to jump to shield Cas, and hope to fuck I don't get lit ablaze. I feel the heat of the dragon's fire blow past me, but it never touches me. I don't know what possesses me, but I scold it. "Look, I know you lost your mama, and I'm sorry, but that's dangerous. Stop that now."

It bows its head, chastised.

"Look man, we're cool, just don't do that again."

It looks to its mama again, and cries out in pain. I take a chance, and get closer, extending a hand, slowly at first, and then pat its snout, and under its jaw. It relishes in the touch, probably lonely. _Who knows how long its been alone?_

"C'mon bud, I know it's hard, but you gotta say goodbye, okay?" I tug it over to its mother, and I make a show of patting her, and her being deceased doesn't make her any less scary. I force myself to stroke her scales though, which are softer than they look.

The baby gets the drift and nuzzles into its mama for the last time.

"C'mon big guy," I say to the dragon, as I lift Cas underneath his armpits—he'd be so pissed if he knew I was dragging him right now—and bring him out to into the waning daylight. When we get out of the cave, I can see the baby, so much better. He's a gorgeous lilac purple, with red on the inside of his wings, and an adorable heart-shaped face. And whoa, _whoa_ yep, it's a boy I figure out when he stands up to stretch everything including his wings.

He prances around, as I remove the birds, and lug Cas back into the wheel-y-cart. _Ugh. Cas is not gonna like any of this._ Great, now I have a dragon with me, who is not the most inconspicuous of creatures. He looks like he's trying to show off for me. I make motions to show him he's got to be quiet, but I doubt he's ever seen a human, and I doubt he knows what I'm saying. He does seem fairly intelligent though; maybe I can teach him?

Since this is just as good a spot as any, I prepare to set up to cook the birds, gathering sticks for a fire. _I've got no shortage of fire power now._ It takes a moment or two to get the little guy to figure out what I mean, but he does, and I get some fire from him for my makeshift cook stove, which he's very proud of. Oooooh boy. I can't wait to show Cas we've got a dragon now, he's going to kill me.

I decide on only cooking one of the birds, and give the other to the baby, which he's very excited about. He nuzzles into me, almost knocking me over, before viciously ripping into the bird. Watching him do that, hearing the sounds of tendons popping and bones snapping, I'm pretty damn glad he decided we were pals, instead of making me a meal. I do wonder how the hell I'm going to keep him fed, I sure one measly bird won't sustain him for long.

It's dark by the time all that's done. I make sure to include, _"Dear Father please send a fucking miracle,"_ in my mealtime prayers, and hope Cas doesn't hear. He probably wouldn't like that prayer so much, but fuck it, I've prayed to that dude every damn day since I met Cas, and nothing. He needs to lend a hand.

I sit beside the cart, exhausted, and the little dragon curls up beside me. It does feel nice to have someone here me with Cas being unresponsive. "Guess I should name you, huh? I'm sure you have a dragon name, or something, but no way I'm gonna be able to say it. I'm Dean by the way, Dean," I ramble on at the dragon.

The rambling helps. I know as well as anything, Cas doesn't have long for this world. I can barely feel him anymore. The bond is going kinda haywire. He's almost… gone.

I wake with a start. I must have nodded off without meaning to. The fire has burned out, and the first light of morning is beginning to poke through the clouds that look like fucking rain. Of course. The whole when it rains it pours thing. Baby Dragon (soon to be named) is still out cold I look to Cas and realize with panic I can't feel him anymore.

"No. No, no, no, no. Cas, Cas, buddy," I say hoping I'll hear him scold me for calling him buddy, but it never comes. "Cas!" The tears are there and I feel them fall down my face, a distant wetness, as I grab Cas by the lapels and slap his face. "Cas wake up. Wake the fuck up!" But he's not going to wake up, not ever again and I start crying over his stupid body.

"Come back," I say anyway. "Father please, bring him back. I'll do anything. I'll never disobey him again, whatever he says goes. When he says jump, I say how high. Please." I cry like that for I don't know how long.

"He's not gone," a voice says, and I jump the fuck up. "He's barely there, but we still have time."

Before me is a woman, a gorgeous woman. Like holy fuck is she hot. And she looks like she could take out an entire army with one look. Her entire body is scarlet red with shimmery highlights when she turns this way and that. Oh my god, she's a fairy. I can't help it, I've reached I-don't-fucking-care, and I'm mad. "Don't come another step further. I have a dragon."

She smiles the fucking loveliest of smiles. Why does she have to be so beautiful? And why is she red? All the other fairies were purple. "Forgive me Dean, but I had to make sure he stayed asleep."

"Of course you did, well then, finish me off. I'm dead anyway."

She laughs. Yeah, that's beautiful too. Stupid beautiful Lady Fairy. "I'm not here to kill you Dean. I'm here to help. My son, Charand, told me what happened. Let me begin by apologizing to you."

"Wait, your son Charand? Are you the fairy queen?"

"That's right. Some call me the fairy queen, some call me Empress. You may call me Asherah. Please, I'll explain more, but we have to give him this now." She pulls a vile red as her skin from a satchel at her waist. I recognize it from what Jamir had. I nod.

I prop Cas up for her, and we pour the liquid down his throat, with still no response, but she's smiling. "Can you feel that, Dean?"

I have to reach out really hard, but I do, I do feel that. I smile too, and wipe the tears from my eyes. "Yeah." Cas is coming back. Slowly, but he's fucking coming back.

"Please, let the antidote do its work, come sit with me and we will talk."

I don't want to leave Cas, but this is the fairy queen, the Empress whatever. I can feel the power, and magic peeling off her. I was too preoccupied with Cas dying to notice before, but now, my skin prickles with her power.

Her long hair shimmers with browns and reds, and golds, even a little silver, somehow making her pretty and dangerous looking at the same time. It feels wrong a creature like her should be sitting on a log like she is.

"You don't have to fear me, Dean. I'm here to apologize to you, and tell you what happened. That was not my husband. Unfortunately, my husband is dead."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Dean. He was taken by a creature while I was away. One sort of like a shapeshifter, but of the magical variety. He came in, killed my husband, and took over."

"Why would a magical shapeshifter want me to marry his fake son?"

She smiles. "You are a very special person, Dean. You're talked about all through prophecy."

"Uh, I am?"

"Yes. Cas didn't tell you?"

"Cas doesn't tell me anything."

That makes her laugh, and now I feel like I can enjoy her beautiful laugh. "Well you are, and he wanted you. A marriage to his fake son, as you say, would have kept you there."

"Did you come back and kick his ass?" That would have been cool to see.

"Yes," she says.

I love this Empress. She's unreal. "Since you said Charand told you, I assume he is okay… what about Jamir?"

"They are both well, and they wanted me to tell you hello."

Thank the good lord.

"I wanted to assure you, Dean, you and Castiel always have free, safe passage through our lands. That's how it should have been in the first place."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I told you Dean, call me Asherah."

"All do respect, but nooooo way. Cas is coming back soon, he would never allow that." Cas is already going to kick my ass for several things, me now having a pet dragon just to start.

"All right then. I see you have found a new friend."

I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. "Yeah. Wasn't on purpose."

"No, but he has bonded with you. You've… become his mother."

Well that's just great. Cas is going to like that even less. The only bond he likes is the one between me and him. "How do I, unbond him?"

"By killing him."

"I'm not doing that!"

"I didn't say you had to, Castiel might feel differently."

It's just one problem after another these days.

"Any chance you might know anything about dragons?"

"I do. You're lucky to find something so rare. They only come to special people."

"He didn't exactly come to me, I chased after it."

She shakes her head. "Nevertheless, he came to you. You will be friends for life."

"I can't really have a dragon tagging along after us."

"I suppose not, but he won't anyway. Maybe while he's so little and getting over the loss of his mother, but he will fly off and make a life for himself."

"That's good news. How long do you think he'll need to, you know, hang out with me?"

"I don't know. Could be weeks, could be years." 

"Years?" Okay, good news cancelled. Just when I was getting excited about Cas coming back to life, now I have to worry about him killing my dragon son. "Anyway can you make Cas sleep that long?"

She laughs. "You are funny."

Also, not really kidding. "Hey, how are you able to do magic this far away from your lands? Cas said your powers diminish." I'm getting the impression being big and small is a feat.

"Castiel is correct, but I am the Fairy Queen. The Mother. I can tap into power that extends far outside my home."

"Got it." Holy shit, I am not fucking with her.

"Speaking of home, I had better get back. There is much to repair, but it was important I get the antidote to you."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it, and uh, Cas does too I'm sure."

The queen rises. "Thank you, Dean. Once again, I apologize for all the trouble. Tell Castiel for me, yes?"

"I will."

In the time it takes me to blink, she's a little glow-y light, flittering off into the distance.

The dragon wakes up before long, and while Cas is coming back, he still hasn't opened his eyes. Dragon stares at him with me. "He'll love you, I'm sure of it," I tell him. "It just takes time for him to warm up to people, and creatures. You'll be fine." Yeah, I’m lying. I'm not sure Cas warms up to anything. He's friendly as a cactus.

Later, I'm getting hungry, which must mean the dragon is starving, so I'm just thinking about what I'll do about that, when I see Cas trying to sit up. "Cas!" I run over and help him up. "Oh Fuck, Cas. You're alive."

"Apparently."

The dragon, seeing the person his human mother has been doting on is up, runs over to greet him, and nuzzles up against him. " _Dean_ , what is that?"

"Just a dragon, Cas. No big deal."

"I know it's a dragon, what is it doing here?"

The dragon seems to be amused by grumpy Cas, and dances around showing off for him. How can Cas not like him? He's damn adorable. Cas shakily makes his way out of the wheel-y-cart, and glares at the dragon. Dragon doesn't mind, he jumps around like an excited puppy, and nudges at Cas with his snout. And wonder of wonders, Cas unthaws reaching out to grab his snout, and rub the top of it. "Only you would find a dragon, Winchester," he says, but he gives a quarter smile to him. Thank Christ. It looks like Cas is not going to kill him. "Have you discovered his name yet?"

"How do I do that?"

"You ask."

"I don't speak dragon, Cas. I was thinking of naming him—"

"—don't say Impala."

"I wasn't." The thought might have crossed my mind.

"What's your name, little fellow?" Cas says.

The dragon screeches at him. "Hikaru Hiroyuki," Cas translates.

"That sounds very, Japanese."

"It is. He's a Japanese dragon, Dean," Cas says like he's the knower of everything.

"What's he doing over here?"

"The world is in chaos. He's not even from this universe. There haven't been dragons in this universe a long time. He's very special, Dean."

"So we can keep him?"

Cas scowls at me. "You went and became his mother, didn't you? We have no choice. He cannot stay forever though."

Whatever. Cas is _enchanted_ with the dragon, otherwise he'd kill him. "I think I'm gonna call him Hika for short," I say coming over to give love to my dragon son. Cas doesn't seem to mind me touching him. I guess the same rules don't apply for dragons.

"Must you butcher everyone's name?"

"His name is a mouthful, Cas. I'm not saying that every time. C'mere, Hika." He takes his attention away from Cas, excited I want to love on him. "See, he likes it." Cas rolls his eyes. He looks horrible. "How you feeling Cas?"

"Best I've felt in days. I should be full strength in no time."

"Wow, that shit works fast."

"It does. How did you manage that one by the way?"

I tell Cas all about the fairy queen and what happened. "I thought something was off about the king, but I was so worried about you, I didn't put it together."

Huh. Sounds like Cas was _emotional_. I didn't think angels got emotional, beyond rage. "So… how much trouble am I in for all of this? Do I get any points for saving your life? Any deathbed realizations?"

"The fairy queen saved my life. You almost allowed a dragon to give me away to his mother for dinner, went on a date with a prince despite my objections, gave me the ride from hell in the equivalent of a wheelbarrow, and look, I'm full of mud."

"So a lot then." Can't say I'm surprised.

"I'll deal with you later, for now let's head back to Gabriel's."

"Really?"

Cas nods. "Now that I'm okay, we can skip Balthazar's and I will take you to where we know your brother will be, but Dean, I don't know which flight will be my last."

"Which means, Cas, we can't." Too bad Hika wasn't big enough to fly us. Maybe someday.

"I believe I make the decisions around here, but no, flying would not be wise. There is still chance, if we were to acquire some horses, we could make it to Gabriel's in time."

"Y-You'd ride horses, for Sam?"

"Not for Sam, and only this once." Wow. I'm pretty damn blown away. "But Dean, I must warn you, this is a Fool's errand. We're not ready to face the likes of Lucifer."

"Then why are you allowing this?"

"Because you'll be impossible, and while I don't mind beating you into submission, would do in fact if it were necessary, I've learned how little self-control you have when it comes to family matters."

Did Cas just say he won't be able to take my utter devastation over not, at least, trying? Because pretty sure that's what he said, I just can't believe it. It's true too, while I would behave myself, because I have to, no amount of beating would make me stop thinking about it. I beam at Cas. "Where do we get horses?"


	13. Just Give Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September 21, 2019  
> _______________________
> 
> OMG, Dean. Seriously with the 14K words here?! 
> 
> It took me a bit for this one, because there were some emotionally hard bits, and Mock's Muse has been craving the fluffy stuff! But as always, I LOVE ME some angst, and finally here it was. I know you all do too ;) 
> 
> As always hope you enjoy this chapter. I really enjoyed writing it. A lot of action to come in this story -- you'll see by the end of this ;) Love you all *muah*

~DEAN*before the after, after the before ~

Cas has been quiet, too quiet, and I don't like the apprehension I feel from him. He's been like this for the past several days, as we walk, and walk and walk, since our last major blow out, which he won of course.

Because yes, only I would argue and misbehave for my terrifying angel mate. The beating I received was monumental, and then he just went quiet.

I tired talking to him, which began with a big fat apology. I got the sense that he wasn't ignoring me, so much as he was restraining, so I kept on as always, talking about whatever came to mind. I told him stories about Sammy and when I missed him the most, I told him about my dad, I told him what kind of jam I like on toast, and listed all of my favourite music. He didn't shut me up, but he didn't add to the conversation.

I carried on asking him questions he never answered, making guesses at what he liked and didn't like, also making jokes and then laughing at them on my own because I don't think Cas understands jokes.

Eventually we enter another town, and Cas heads directly to a specific house, and actually knocks on the door rather than barging in. I'm finally quiet, sensing something big is about to happen, something I'm really not going to fucking like, but I breathe and keep calm as I can, glancing at Cas for some kind of clue. No such luck, his face is un-fucking-readable.

All I've got to go on is the apprehension I can feel leaking off him, and that he's perhaps, trying to strengthen his own resolve. I don't know what any of that means. I would think this whole being able to feel everything coming from a person would make understanding them easy, but at times, it can make things more confusing than not. Often, it's a best guess at why he's feeling what he's feeling, or not feeling anything at all.

The door is answered by a man who's, just so _normal_ looking, especially for an apocalypse, for a second I think he isn't real. He's tall, thin, with a well-trimmed beard, dressed in a button down and khakis. I must be a sight to him. I caught a glimpse of myself in a side-view mirror of a truck on the way by. My face is bruised to fuck, my lip is split, and I'm full of dirt. My hair is sticking up every which place, not having seen a comb in too long, since I fucking lost mine, and Cas is being a dick about it saying I can have tangled hair if I'm going to lose the things he gets me—Cas found me that comb. Also, I'm skinny now. Really fucking skinny. Thank God for beefed up angel whatever strength I've got, because it sure ain't coming from giant muscles with how thin I've gotten. Food on the road has been scarce of late.

"Castiel," the man says. "What brings you here?"

Cas, the quiet pillar of nothing for days, suddenly comes to life, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck, dragging me into the house, barging past the man who I've decided looks a little like Jeff Bridges. I trip, but manage to catch my balance, just in time for Cas to roughly sit me on the man's sofa. "You, sit there. Do _not_ move. Understood?"

Huh, he might still be pissed at me. "Yes, sir." I watch him carefully, no idea what he's planning, just that he is planning something.

"I mean it Dean, or your last round of discipline will feel like Heaven compared to what I'll do to you."

 _Interesting choice of words._ I swear I blush a little, being chastised like that in front of a strange person. I don't know why I should, not like it's the first time, but there's just something about this man. I only nod this time, and Cas lets go my neck.

"Antoni, I would like to speak with you, somewhere private." In other words, somewhere I'm not.

 _Antoni_ looks me up and down. "I've got a place."

Cas gives me a final warning glare, and follows Antoni out of the room. I want to follow and listen, and I would, but Cas has finally knocked some fear into me. I don't want to find out what a beating worse than the last one would feel like. I remember with Cas, it's a beating _if I'm lucky_ ; what he's thinking up in his mind could be worse than. He's creative.

I do worry about what Cas is saying to him, and what's going to become of me, because something is going to become of me, I just don't know what. After too long, Cas and Antoni return. "I am leaving," Cas announces. "You're staying with Dr. O'Malley."

"What? For how long?"

"At least a few months, we'll see how you're doing once I complete my first mission."

"Months?" I feel the bit of grace Cas put inside me start to stir, and it's like it knows Cas isn't just going on a food run. "No. Please. I'll come with you—"

"—you'll stay here, and do as you're told."

Dr. O'Malley clears his throat. "I've got something outback to take care of, I'll let you two sort this on your own," he says.

"That won't be necessary. I will outline the rules for Dean, and then I'm leaving. Dean will obey me."

 _Didja just meet me, Cas?_ No way I'm gonna be a good little human about this. "Is this because of before Cas? I said I was sorry. You didn't say anything; I thought I was forgiven. C'mon, we can sort this out."

"No. Now pay close attention, because if I find out you've disobeyed Antoni, I will make sure you live to regret it." That's Cas's favourite line. He says it a lot.

From behind us, I can feel Antoni's discomfort growing at watching this little scene, but Cas told him to stay, and while I'm already getting the sense that Cas might miraculously respect at least one human, he is still a human, and Cas an angel. He's staying 'till he's told to leave.

"You will address Antoni as Dr. O'Malley, Mr. O'Malley, or sir. He is your superior, you are his subordinate. He has been given permission to punish you as he sees fit." That one surprises me, Cas does not like anyone touching me, like _at all_. He must trust this Anton—Mr. O'Malley guy. "You will do everything he says, _everything._ You will not leave this house unless you acquire permission from Antoni, and you may not have sex with other humans. Now come say goodbye."

All of it makes my body tingle with the slight embarrassment of being told like I'm some little kid, but that last one makes my face heat. All of it makes my cock hard. I know he wants a yes sir, but I'm still trying to come up with ways to keep this from happening, so I say nothing. Sharp feelings of terribleness are pooling in my gut, and he hasn't even left yet. How can he leave? I know some of these kinds of feelings never really died down to where he said they would after the bonding. I get the sense more and more things with us are not happening as expected.

Tears start to burn behind my eyes, as I sit looking up at him pleading like a puppy who doesn't want their owner to leave for work for the day. I reach in to see what Cas is feeling, but it's all hard, and closed with the usual anger. "Belligerent to the end I see. No matter. Behave yourself."

Cas turns to walk out the door, but I'm there grabbing around his legs, stopping him. He won't fly for reasons I do not know, and he won't use his grace unless absolutely necessary, which is why I can do what I can at all. Cas, not having expected me to attack him, falls to the ground, and begins kicking his legs, not minding if he kicks me in the process. I'm not letting go, so he has to fight harder, which is no problem for the centuries old angel.

I am no slouch myself, and I've got extra strength now, I'm not shy about using. I fight back, latching onto him, even going so far as to defend myself when he tries to strike me, which is a big no, Cas has already made it clear I'm not supposed to fight back; some kind of submission thing. He does break his legs free, and I dive on top of him, trying to trap him there.

He's way fucking stronger than me though, and it only takes a shove to get me off of him, and with another I'm rolled away into Dr. O'Malley's recliner. _What he must be thinking right now?_

I'm fast though. Between all the god dammed walking, and fighting of creatures on the road, my cardio fitness, and fast twitch muscle fiber reaction time is superb. I'm on my knees before Cas, hanging onto the bottom of the trench coat he always wears, in a second. This time though, I'm begging, pleading, crying, I'm fucking sobbing, man. "Please don't go. Don't leave me here. I can be good Cas. I'll be so, so good. Here, punish me. Punish me!" I reach up to undo his belt.

He bats my hands away. "Dean, stop this. Stop this at once."

"No," I say, crying the whole time. "I won't. I'm coming with you, Cas. You think he can stop me leaving? He won't. I'll follow after you and I don't care what you do to me." I hug his leg and cry into it pouring all my sadness outward at him. I don't care how fucking pathetic I look.

I expect the worst. Cas dragging me down to the basement, tying me up there, using his angel mojo to keep me there, Mr. O'Malley having to come down and feed and water me.

But none of that happens. Cas reaches down and softly cards his hand through my hair, which only makes me cry harder thinking about how he's leaving me. I make my grip tighter knowing he can still remove me, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something to make him stay, so I do it.

"Will you leave us, Antoni? Better yet, is there somewhere I could speak to my mate privately?"

"Upstairs, second door on the right," he says in a gruff voice, that almost sounds a bit choked up.

"Come," Cas says pulling up on my arm, and steering me toward the stairs. I let him guide me, a bit dazed, just glad he's still here.

"You're not leaving me here, Cas," I tell him as we walk up the stairs.

He doesn't answer that, roughly shoving me inside the bedroom once we get there. "Sit," he says motioning me to the bed. I do, shaking, tears still dripping.

"Cas, please. _Please._ "

He stares at me looking like a Mother who doesn't know what to do with her stubborn toddler. "I believe, during one of the times you were incessantly nattering on, you told me you used to work on cars, yes?"

I nod, surprised he was actually paying attention. I thought he kinda just tuned me out. "Dad taught me, I tried to teach Sammy." I'd give anything to have Sammy with me right now. I feel so fucking awful. He'd make it all better.

"Well unfortunately, I cannot give you cars, but I've asked Antoni, Dr. O'Malley to you, to teach you about repairing humans. He’s a surgeon. Not only will this be useful on the road, but also when we stop at places where there are more humans. I have come to realize you need this. I believe you will behave better when you have this outlet."

I am so confused, because isn't Cas the kind of guy who just hammers round pegs into square holes if need be? I wasn't wrong about that, yes, yes he is, but he's doing something different with me. "Why Cas? Why care if I have an 'outlet'? Can't you just punish me like you have been?"

Cas's eyes narrow his anger blazing through him, as he grabs me by my shirt collar, and situates me in front of the mirror. "Because of this."

I take a good look at myself, a better look than I did passing by an old truck's side view mirror. I look like shit. I, oh god, I look like an abused and broken animal with how many bruises are on my face. The cuts healing over on my lips and cheeks look terrible, and maybe infected. My hair is wild, as the stubble growing in on my face, and the dirt makes me look uncared for.

Regardless, I don't get what me looking like shit means to him right now. "I'm sorry, Cas, I don't follow."

"I don't like this, Dean."

"So? Don't do it."

"I must. You will always know how important your discipline is to me. I will not become slack in my duties."

"You discipline me fine."

"Then why are you still, so disobedient? Why do you make me do _this_ to you?" I almost feel _pain_ from him. For him, which is crazy, he's the one beating the fuck out of me. I'm not even allowed to fight back.

"Can't believe I'm gonna say this, Cas, but it's not you, it's me."

"I agree, which is why I must leave you with Dr. O'Malley. You need a skill Dean. It releases you in a way I can't. Surrender can only come when you feel right within yourself, fixing things makes you feel right. Too long without it, and you act up, because you don't feel right inside, you don't feel yourself."

 _He noticed all of this about me?_ I can't deny he's right though, and he makes sense. Getting beat up doesn't affect me like I've seen it affect others. This is not to say there's no effect. It's just, rather than psychologically traumatize me, I've merely grow a healthy respect, just like one would with a grizzly bear. However, this level of physical battering is not conducive for the road, and it's not doing much to instil good behaviour from me when it's, so often. Not the true surrender kind of thing Cas is talking about.

"But, I don't want you to leave me, Cas," I say the tears starting again. "I can do it. I can behave better. Please let me come with you."

"You know?" he says pulling me to him, gently this time, my back against his front, both of us watching the other in the mirror. "I believe you. I know you want to do it, and that you can't. This will help Dean, the sooner the better before we both drive each other crazy."

I turn and bury myself in the angel, who accepts me to him. "I don't care. I'll go crazy with you, it's fine."

"It's not fine, and despite your protests, this is happening. You will behave for Antoni, you will stay here and learn from him." The timber in Cas's voice makes it so final, and I know it is what will be.

I'm angry with his decision, but I won't let go of him, or stop crying, or stop wanting him to take me with him. "You are coming back though?"

"I am coming back. My first excursion should take me two months—"

"—two months! Cas you know… you _know_ that's going to be impossible for me."

"It's not going to feel good, but you can do it. Just obey the rules I've set for you that will help."

I know it's getting closer to the time Cas will leave, and my anxiety grows, sinking in my gut like a heavy brick. It's worse knowing I'm not going to change his mind, and that despite my big talk, I know I will always choose obeying him, even if it takes me a bit to get there.

"Don't forget to say your prayers. Pray for a safe journey for me, and ask Father to help guide your choices."

"I will, but Cas? Just the two months right? Then you'll come get me, and we'll leave together." I say the last part like a statement hoping that will make it true.

"I will be back in about two months, and we will see, Dean."

That pisses me off. It's basically a no. "You can't expect me to sit around this place for much longer than that, my brother, Cas. I need to find my brother. No deal. You want to leave again when you come back that's fine, but I'm going to find my brother after that with, or without you."

I can feel the tension twist within him. He wants to beat me again doesn't he? Yep, he most definitely does. "I don't make deals. You see? This is exactly what I'm talking about. We need this Dean. You can't see that right now, but we do, and I will do what's best."

I'm too angry to bother with feeling what he's feeling, but I know the road is dangerous, and it could be the last time I ever see him, so I continue to hold him tight. "I hate how much I fucking adore you Cas. Do _not_ fucking die on me, you got that?" I know, I know, so not the submissive thing I'm supposed to be.

I expect to be thrown into a wall, but instead, he smiles against my forehead. "You are the most disobedient mate I've ever had." It's not long though before his smile is gone and austere, angel of the lord Cas is back. "I will be back when I'm back. I will let you know when you're ready to travel with me again. You will stay here until then. If you want to travel with me, and thus look for your brother, you'll have to be really well behaved while I'm gone, won't you?"

"Yes, sir," I mumble into his jacket.

When we finally head back downstairs, I can't stop crying as Cas walks out the door, and like the pathetic idiot I am, I sit on the porch and watch him leave wiping at my tears. The anxious feeling grows, and I want so badly to run after him; I don't. For hours I go back and forth between staying here and being good for Cas, and running after him. When I want to run after him, I'm angry and hate him (which yes I know makes no sense), when I want to stay I think I might love Cas.

It starts to get dark, and cold, and Dr. O'Malley comes out. "Dean? Why don’t you come in, son? I've made food."

I don't want to, not at all. I have half a mind to throw a fit, still might later, but right now I _need_ to obey Cas, which means behaving for this guy; makes me feel closer to Cas. I slug myself off the porch swing, and follow him into the house where there's _hot_ stew. There's hardly ever hot anything on the road with Cas. It's cold lake and river baths, cold nights and often cold food – meat I've had to eat raw.

Hot is comforting. I've been on the road so long, I feel a bit like a wild animal being won over and it starts with hot. "This is real good. Thank you, sir." Fuck. I realize belatedly I forgot to pray. How does this work? Is he going to keep a tally? Do I keep a tally? Will he punish me like Cas's said he could?

"Something the matter?"

"I uh, I forgot to thank Father for this meal," I admit. Might as well. Maybe this will count toward me going with Cas when he comes back. _If he comes back._

Dr. O'Malley smiles. "Oh right. Castiel's rules. You're upset, I'm sure he'd understand and let it go this once."

"Ha! You don't know Cas," I say taking another bite. "He never lets anything go, 'this once'." Believe me, I've tried.

He seems to think about that, and then he extends both hands across the table, nodding toward me to take them. It's weird, I haven't touched anyone except for Cas in I can't remember how long, but Cas seems to have okayed some level of physicality between us. I guess if we're going to work on healing humans, we'll touch at some point, and Cas has accepted that in his twisted idea of doing what's best.

I take his hands, and he prays. "Dear Father, thank you for blessing us with this meal. We hope you'll forgive our bleated thanks. Hunger, and sadness have a way of overcoming us humans, a flaw I hope you'll help us with. We receive this meal with love, and grace. Amen."

"Amen," I say.

He releases my hands. "Feel better?"

I nod. "Thank you, sir."

"You know? Maybe you can teach me some things about angels, I know some, but I feel like you've keenly observed some things I'd like to know, and if you're doing that, maybe you'd let me teach you some things about healing people?"

"I'd like that, sir."

"You ever going to call me anything, but sir?"

"Dr. O'Malley?"

"I wouldn't mind if you just called me O'Malley. Maybe Cas just didn't think of it."

Except he did. Maybe he really does need to learn about angels. "He was very specific as to how I should address you, sir, um, Dr. O'Malley."

His face cracks a huge smile; it's friendly and warm. "I like you Dean. I know we don't know each other, but I can already tell how much I really like you," he says then digs into his meal.

~**~

Dr. O'Malley turns out to be a great guy, but unfortunately for him, he's left to deal with the fallout of what happens when Cas and I are apart like this. The first week isn't pretty.

I'm angry at Cas, and it shows. I still have half a mind to go after Cas. I'm not much for talking, but at the same time, can't help collecting information, which requires talking. For starters, this place is too intact for my liking. Shouldn't it have been destroyed in the big war? I've noticed there are pictures of Dr. O'Malley around, with people, so not only did this house survive, it's _his_ house from before. What's up with that?

And while I found his sentiments heart warming in the moment, who likes a guy upon first meeting him, especially nowadays? He's either some kind of warlock, or stupid. If he's a doctor, I suspect not stupid, so I'm going with warlock until he can prove otherwise. Though I second-guess his IQ when he starts volunteering information to me. No way I'm doing that.

"I thought we could get to know one another before we start, son. Mind coming to help me in the garage, and we can chat?"

Do I want to? no, but Cas said to behave myself, and I assume telling him to fuck off would not be considered behaving. Besides, not like I have anything else to do. When he takes me into the tidiest garage I've ever seen, sitting there is a 1973 Mercury Cougar. I can't fucking believe it, and I run over to check her out. She's a gorgeous mustard yellow, with a brown top. Paint job is still perfect. My heart pangs a bit, seeing her reminds me of my baby, stupid Cas made me leave, just like he left me. "She's gorgeous Doc, um Dr. O'Malley."

He nods, proud. "Needs a tune up, thought you could do it for me. Castiel mentioned you liked working on cars."

There's no way he can't do this himself, he's doing this for me, and I appreciate the gesture, especially since no way would I ever let a stranger get their paws under Baby's hood. "Yeah, I'd love to," I say because I'm also not missing the opportunity. I miss tinkering under a hood.

"I'll get you some tools."

I'm still a dirty mess. Without running water, all I was able to do was wipe down my face. It's just as well though; working on cars is dirty. "I'll start with me," he says, once I'm set up, removing my outer shirt, leaving me in my soiled t-shirt and jeans. He watches me carefully. "I'm sure you've noticed this is my house." I nod. "I lost damn near everyone in the wars. My wife, my daughter, my tiny grandson; my fucking dog. Dived into help. Did what I could. After the wars, almost turned myself in to God too, but I connected with people who I fell in love with. Has a family practice before I became a surgeon, so I’ve gone back to that. A mix of both for anyone who needs help.”

He hasn't said a lot, but he's said everything, and it sits between us for a bit, while I start working on his car, and think about the information I want to trade, because that's what this is. He wants to know about me, and I don't blame him. Times are tough, and you're best to know the strange guy an angel dumped at your house.

Unfortunately for Doc O'Malley, I'm not down with giving myself away to people, I also don't want him to keep prying though. Best way around that, I've found, is to tell him something the rest of the world thinks would be private, but to me isn't. "My dad's been dead since _before_ , I lost my brother _after_." I let him assume what I mean by 'lost', just as he did.

He leans back in his chair. "How'd you get pulled in with the likes of Castiel?"

"Because he's dreamy," I say, making a fake joke, and winking. "I'm alone, and it's dangerous out there, seemed like a smart decision at the time."

"And now?" he says raising an eyebrow.

Huh. Never really though about that. I've just been putting one foot in front of the other, hopeful I'm on the right road to rescuing my brother. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're getting at," I tell him. "Anymore fucking questions?"

For some reason that makes him laugh, even though I am being a dick. He shakes his head. "No. I know all I need to know."

He's quiet after that watching me work, which at first is weird, but once I get into my rhythm, I don't even notice he's there. I start thinking about Sammy without wanting to. I fucking hate thinking about him. It hurts more than one of Cas's beatings.

As I work, I remember how much I miss this. It connects me back to all kinds of things I hadn't though about in awhile, _sunny days in the grass, working on my car, Sammy, pie…_ I don't know how much time passes, but finally, he gets up to leave. I worry I've pissed him off somehow. Not because I care about pissing him off, because I remember I'm supposed to be behaving, so Cas will take me with him when he comes back. I'm not doing so well. He notices that I've looked up. "I'm just going to make some lunch, Dean," he says like I'm a scared animal. Probably look like it. "We should probably see about getting you cleaned up too."

I relax, as much as I can relax with the constant aching burn in my chest, which is there because Cas is too far away from me. There will be no comfort for me until he's back.

When he calls me in for lunch, it's another hot meal. "How do you manage all this hot food?" I say not hiding the fact it's a luxury for me. I look past him to the stove sitting there, pristinely clean and unused.

"That's just for show, to feel normal, and for hope, hope I'll get to use it again one day. I've got a nifty sort of cook fire set up out back."

We pray a little less formally – no hand holding – and we eat. Afterward, he brings me out back to show me his 'shower' set up. "I used to camp a lot. Had this old outdoor shower bladder," he explains. Hung on a hook on the side of the house, is a large black, bag that's got a hose and mini showerhead attachment. "It's solar, so it heats up in the sun, some. Sometimes you even get a hot one. I've been collecting rainwater in barrels. Just gotta fill it up, hang it, and turn this little nozzle here, the water'll come out."

Surrounding the set up, are three slats of fencing, the middle one on a hinge for a door.

"Offers some privacy," he says. "I usually hang my towel here, so I can grab it easily." He indicates a hook on the side of the 'shower', which is easy to grab. "I put a fresh towel here for you, and there's soap in a container on the ground inside. You're even lucky enough to come at a time when I have shampoo _and_ conditioner." Okay, I smile at that, poor guy's really reaching. "Have yourself a good shower, and then meet me inside. You're going to be our first patient."

"Yes, sir."

The shower's actually really nice. Dr. O'Malley's backyard is beautiful, filled with fragrant flowers, and while the water isn't hot, it not cold either having warmed up some from the sun. I can't run the water continuously, but it's a great set up for getting clean, far cleaner than I've been in who the fuck knows how long. By the time I'm wrapping the towel around me, I feel a little better, at least on the outside.

I realize how disgusting my clothes are, and can't bring myself to put them back on, so I head in, in just the towel. Dr. O'Malley has some stuff set up in the living room. "Um, you got any spare clothes?" I ask.

"I do, but probably best we start as you are," he says leaving that hanging in the air.

Oh right. I'm beat to fucking shit.

"Some of those, um, lacerations look infected." Jesus fuck, the doctor is uncomfortable about my state.

"If you don't got the stomach for this Doc, you shoulda let Cas know." Fuck, I called him 'Doc'. "I mean, Mr. O'Malley, sir. Sorry."

He takes a breath. "No I'm sorry. You're right. I do have a better stomach than that it's just…"

"Something personal," I guess.

He nods.

"If it helps, know that I'm not doing anything I can't handle." I don't know if that's fucking true anymore. I'm a Circ de fucking Soleil of jumping from shit to shit I can't handle. Making is so Cas decided to abandon me here like this just one thing. I'm not even going to the Sammy part.

"Right, and none of it's my business. I just, you're so young looking kid, this war business makes me angry when I let it, thinking about young kids like you who could have had a future, but instead—"

"—are getting beat to shit by angels we've enslaved ourselves to?"

"I'm not stupid Dean, I know there must have been some grave reason you did that. _Not_ because he was dreamy."

"It's none of your god damned business." The angrier I get, and the more I act in a way I know would piss Cas off, the more the ache of him being gone rises. I can't… I can't. Fuck I need Cas. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I'm taking some clothes, and I'm leaving."

"Dean, _Dean_ wait. Let me fix up your wounds they're gonna fester."

"I've been fixing up this shit since I can remember. I'll do it myself then."

"Okay," he says putting his hands up carefully, and gesturing to the supplies.

I sit on the couch in nothing but a towel, and grab the bottle labelled saline, and begin rising out one of the lacerations on my thigh, not caring what I get wet. With it clean, I realize this one seems to have broke open, probably from all the fucking walking, and it needs stitches. Fuck.

I can do a stitch that works, but I know it's not a formal stitch. Don't care. I grab his shit and start doing my thing, intent on getting this done, so I can get out there to look for Cas, or hell to find my brother, or something. My panic levels rise thinking about Cas, and how he left, how he decided he was leaving, and I was staying. The lack of control over that makes it hard to breathe.

Next I know, the doctor is beside me, helping me, guiding me through breathing. "Dean go into the pain, go inside, surrender. Let go."

I follow the sound of his voice, and before long, I'm breathing normally again. The ache of Cas being gone is ever present, a burning sensation to the point of uncomfortable, but I live with it. "There you go, son. Can I show you how to make the stitch at least? I think you'll find it useful for the road. I'll pack you some supplies at least, and some food, and dressed."

He's going to help me leave, and I realize the only thing keeping me here is my word to Cas. I have no doubt Cas would drag me back here, and probably tell the Doc to chain me to something, but that's a whole theory for an action I haven't done yet. One I'm not opposed to doing.

_Or I could obey, Cas._

"I'd like to learn the stitch," I say, still undecided.

The doctor is a good teacher. He's patient, and kind, and knows how to give good instruction. He let's me perform the actions, after illustrating a little bit, which is how I've always learned best, and he congratulates me, pouring on the praise when I do it well.

It takes us two hours, but when I'm done I feel patched up, and when I slide into the clothes he gives me they feel comfortable, things feel like they're healing under them rather than sticking against the fabric to fester. I feel accomplished, and free.

"Mr. O'Malley, sir? I'm sorry about earlier, I was out of line."

"Apology accepted, Dean. I'm not upset. I know things are pretty rough for you right now."

"Would you still be okay with me staying here?"

"Of course. Didn't think you were going to be a walk in the park."

I nod, feeling like an ass. Silence hangs between us. I know what comes after a tantrum like I just had. "Um, so, what… what ways do you…?"

"What kinds of consequences do I hand out?" he says, smiling that warm smile of his.

"Yeah," I say embarrassed.

"It's not something I'm used to doing, truth be told, but I'm guessing like the praying, we're going to have to, so we should figure some things out. Does Castiel have any methods beyond this?" he asks referring to what's already on my body.

I feel weird talking about it, but I know I'm going to have to. I'm already feeling that need like I have to repent. "Spanking, lots of that," I start with, and list off a few things Cas has done over the time I've spent with him, leaving out the more gruesome, which I already get the sense Dr. O'Malley's not the sort to use anyway.

"That's quite the list, Dean. I'm not spanking you today; that's for sure out. I want as much of this to heal as possible before I even think about that. I'll start with the corner time thing."

"Do you want me in any particular position?" Cas would have me hold some terrible and painful one.

"Just standing, facing the wall is fine. Ten minutes."

Ten minutes doesn't feel enough compared to the level of tantrum I had, Cas would have had me over something, and his belt off for sure, but it would feel weirder to me to ask for _more_ punishment, so I don't. Cas chose this guy. Not me, not my problem. I let it go.

Yeah, so, overall my first day goes not too badly, considering my frame of mind, but then the night comes.

Last night wasn't good, but with the way this God forsaken bond works, it gets worse the longer Cas is gone, which makes me wonder just what the fuck Cas was thinking? He didn't even tell me what happens to a human who's separated from his angel too long. I assume it's not death, but there are worse things than death.

At first it's just not being able to sleep, but lack of sleep wears on a human, does things to the psyche. The brain's chatter becomes a demolition site for your rationality. Added to that, no one tells you how _exhausting_ pain is. I have both, physical and emotional, and it wears me to my breaking point. There's the constant burning ache through my body, the grace I have of Cas's is crying, and trying to claw its way out of me and back to its owner. _Our_ owner. I try hard to focus on what the doc's teaching me, but I just go through the motions, 'till I can get back to the bed I'm using at his place, curl into a bawl, cry, and pray for Cas to come back, promising him over and over again, I'll behave.

Dr. O'Malley worries about me. He even tries to rile me up to elicit some kind of response out of me; he'll gladly take anger to the pathetic thing I've become. Since he's caught onto what I've been doing in 'my room', he won't let me up there anymore until it's time for bed, so I've taken to sitting on the porch, staring at the horizon, hoping I'll see Cas, my face wet with tears half the time. It's a fruitless activity. I know Cas is nowhere near the place, I'll be able to feel him when he gets close, especiallly if I'm paying this much attention.

Dr. O'Malley prefers that I'm getting fresh air, even if I'm moping. "If you're going to cry, do it outside where the fresh air will do you some good," he's said. He's not being unkind, it's just hard to know exactly what to do with me. He's tried, but he's learned sometimes it's best to let me feel my way through it.

Despite my state, it doesn't take much for the doctor to rile me to anger. Everything seems to piss me off, but rather than get fed up with me, he's happy I'm still feisty. "There's different kinds of anger Dean," he said to me one day. "I don't mind seeing the kind you get, reminds me you're still there."

I don't get him though. I would have kicked me out a long time ago.

In some ways, I've gotten used to the agony. It's just there. I know I don't feel good, but I don't really remember what good feels like to tell you the truth. Even after two months of Cas being gone, the fucking gnawing at my gut is still there; it just _is_.

And then one day something shifts inside me. It feels like when the clouds part after the rain, you're still drenched, fucking rained-on-soaked, but there's lightness that feels like hope. I know what that means, and I pop out of bed, even though I haven't slept, and run down the fucking stairs and to the porch.

Having heard the equivalent of an elephant run down the stairs, Dr. O'Malley's there, rubbing his eyes. "Dean? Everything okay?"

"Not yet, but it's gonna be. Cas is on his way back."

"You can feel that?"

I nod. "Uh-huh."

"Well c'mon back inside. Let's have breakfast."

"But, I want to wait out here for him." It's almost a whine. _Almost._

"How far out is he?"

I realize I don't know, just that he's closer than he has been in weeks, but it's not likely to be today.

He's learned to read me a little. "Breakfast, clinic time, and then you can wait till your heart's content."

I'm not happy about that, but over our time together, and with me being so mopey, he's had to become a little bossy. Of course, he's still not remotely, as bossy as Cas, but it's enough to keep that one thread of sanity I've got left nailed to the ground.

"I don't need breakfast," I try.

He can tell he needs to bring out the big guns early. "Dean, what would Cas say about that?" It didn't take long for us to figure out how much _'what Cas would say'_ influences my decisions.

"He'd want me to eat," I respond, sulkily.

"C'mon," he says, and I do.

It's not 'till a week later, I see Cas walking toward the house. For a moment, I can barely move, watching that familiar stride I know so well. It's a sure stride that covers large distances with efficiency, but also one that makes him forever look like he's stalking prey. Right now, I'm the prey, and even pissed as I still am at him, I couldn't be happier to be prey.

Every fiber of my being is telling me to run toward him, but I can't, paralyzed by something. What I don't know. _My mate. He's my mate._ All my sensory equipment thrums with that knowing. When he reaches the bottom of the steps to the porch, he stops, and stares taking me in. I do the same.

I'm sure my outward appearance looks bright and healthy. I'm fully healed, and I've put on size from eating well. I'm a lot different from that banged-up-scraggle-muffin he left here two months ago. I've had multiple showers, I'm clean-shaven, and while I haven't been sleeping well, it's still better than the sleep I get on the road. Inside though, I'm falling apart slowly, but surely, and somehow Cas knows right away. "I was gone for too long," he acknowledges.

"No fucking, shit Cas." Asshole.

He's not so good himself, not the he'll admit it. His outer appearance hasn't changed, but something's off inside him, like it is me. I can feel it. _Why the fuck didn’t he come back sooner?_

His eyes darken, and the mood gets intense. He takes a deliberate step up toward the porch, instinctively I step back. "No. Stay," he says.

It's both hard and easy at the same time. Hard because I know he's going to tear me apart, easy because there's no other place I want to be. _Tear me apart then, Cas._

When he reaches the top where I am, the energy between us has reached a crescendo, and when he extends a hand to move the hair from my eyes that's what sets it off. Cas is suddenly on me in a lip-bruising kiss. He yanks me to him, and lifts my right thigh, so I can grip his waist with it.

Cas doesn't give a fuck that we're on Dr. O'Malley's porch, or that anyone can walk by (actually, even better in his opinion, so they all know I'm his), or what I have to say about it, he starts unbuttoning my jeans, as he kisses the life out of me.

It doesn't matter though, I'm too drunk on the feeling of being near Cas again after, so long to worry about others. I'm consumed with need for him. I give myself over to the need, and the feeling of being owned by him. His. His property. I'm far more pliant than I ever remember being.

My pants aren't pulled down, it's more of a desperate yank, and somewhere through the haze I have a moment of clarity; Cas is reacting like I am, but where I am folding and surrendering, he's consumed with owning, dominating, making me his all over again.

His eyes are wild, and he has about as much control as I do in this moment. Anything could happen to me when he's consumed by whatever magic goes into creating kinky sex bonds, but the danger of it fuels me too, knowing there's nothing I can do to stop it, best thing to do is give yourself over to it.

But even if I didn't want to, I'm overpowered by whatever's coursing through me, so that I couldn't tell anyone if I didn't want this, just that I do. Fuck though, it feels so damn good, I don't care one way or the other.

Cas is rough when he bends me over the railing, and rougher still when he spreads my cheeks wide with one hand, and lines up the head of his cock with the other. Thankfully, I feel wet with whatever love juice is made in my ass now after bonding with Cas, because Cas shoves himself in with no prep and no warning. "Aahhhhhh!" I cry out. It still fucking hurts, even hopped up on whatever magic we are right now, but I don't resist.

"That's it, Dean. Take what I give you. You belong to me."

 _Yeah… yes… oh fuck god fuck yessss…_ "Y-Yours, yours, Cas."

When he's seated all the way inside me, he pulls out then pierces me again. "Aaahaaa, aaaahhmmmmmmm…"

My cries morph to moans of pleasure, as the magic lube starts to ease the way, and my body quickly adjusts to him, with a little help from me, pushing back, trying to swallow his cock whole with my ass. He pushes in and out, as I keep myself spread open for him, and try to grip the railing, which I have to hold onto for dear life due to the force called Cas fucking himself into me over and over.

I submit a long while the first time, taking the brutal fucking, the _claiming_ like a human mate is meant to, running off instinct, knowing I need to give myself over to him until the bond is satisfied, until Cas is satisfied. It's bliss for me too though, no matter how painful, and I want more, to be closer, and closer, and closer. When he fills me up with his sparkly, angel jizz, there's nothing sweeter.

Neither of us bothering to fix our clothes, Cas pulls me from over the railing, and down to the porch floor curling himself around me. I'm too out of it to think straight, and I pass out on Cas only to be woken up moments later for another round, and another, and another still.

By the time I come to – if you can call it that, I'm still in a sex magic drunk haze – I remember that I'm on a porch, one that isn't mine, in the middle of the day. Both Cas and I have lost clothes. Cas is in nothing but his long-sleeved white shirt, which is mostly undone, and a pair of socks. I've got, fuck, just one sock, and a whole bunch of different marks on me, including fresh welts from Cas's belt.

I managed to forget how much they sting, but I was quickly reminded; one of them might even need stitching. Fuck I screamed good. You think someone'd come round to make sure whoever was screaming was okay. Maybe they did. I could picture Cas giving them the death glare until they left, but I wouldn't know, I was pretty out of it, focused solely on Cas.

Our naked asses are on poor Mr. O'Malley's porch swing. The violence seems to have bled out of Cas, he's gently stroking my hair, lips pressed against my crown, as I cry. Don't know when I started crying, just that I am, and have been for a bit if my nasal congestion's anything to go by. I don't even know why I'm crying really, but it's somewhere along the lines of an infant crying because his mama returned.

"Cas?" I sniffle.

"Mmmmm?"

"Where's Dr. O'Malley?"

"He went for a walk. Left out the back sometime ago."

"Cas?"

"Mmmm?" He takes a big inhale of my scent.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Not entirely sure, except that it felt similar to how I'd feel if someone were to take you from me."

Someone did. Him. "Can we go, Cas? I don't want to be here anymore. I like Dr. O'Malley fine, but I want to be with you."

"We'll discuss that later." I don't like the sound of that. "For now, fuck Dean. I need you again."

I'm consumed by my angel another seven times.

Eventually we do get dressed again (Cas has to help me, I can't remember how), and go inside, but I'm a bit of a subby-drunken-mess. I can't be anywhere but right by Cas. Below him is best, be it kneeling at his feet, or with my head rested under his chin.

When Dr. O'Malley returns, Cas is sitting on the couch, I am on the floor by his feet with my head in his lap, occasionally nuzzling my head into his hand like a cat who wants to be pet. My eyes are closed, but I'm not asleep. I'm just soaking in all the Cas, enjoying the feeling of _finally_ being content after weeks of not.

"What's with him?" Dr. O'Malley asks, recognizing right away something's off with me. Even in this state I know it, but fucked if I'm of any mind to care.

"It's mostly to do with bonding. He'll be back to his usual bratty self in a few hours."

Bratty, no. Fuck no. Cas is taking me the fuck with him. I'm gonna be a fucking _angel._

"You don't eat, right? I'm going to make food."

"I do not, but I would be appreciative of you making something for my mate," he says like we just got here or something, and I haven't been living with the doctor for weeks.

All I can do is preen in thanks, and rub my head into his hand for another 'pat'. Cas obliges me running glorious fingers through my hair. This is what bliss is.

When Cas makes me sit at the table to have food, I whine. "But, Cas." It's the most I've protested any order since he arrived.

When he gives me the look of darkness, still feeling as I am, I bow my head and jump into the seat. Dr. O'Malley serves me a bowl of chili, and after we pray, I attempt to eat it quickly, so I can get back to Cas. He grabs my hand. "I am right here, Dean. Slow down."

I nod.

Cas and the doctor talk, and they have a nice conversation. It appears as if Dr. O'Malley has history, and healthy respect for Cas, he's also hella weary of him. By the time I'm done eating, I'm feeling a lot more like myself.

Cas stays for three days. It's just enough time to settle the bond. I know what's fucking up, when Cas wants to speak with Dr. O'Malley, alone. "Go to your room, Dean."

I have been on my best behaviour. No I haven't turned over a new leaf. I just want Cas to take me with him, and I'm trying to convince him I can fucking behave myself enough for him to do so. Unfortunately for my little plan, he's neither stupid, nor falling for the false feelings I'm trying to push at him. I go without complaint anyway, in case it counts for something. It does not.

"I'm sure you've already figured out I'm leaving tomorrow," he says when he comes in my room.

I decide to go with a different tactic than last time, knowing there's no convincing him. "Go then," I say. It's fuck off without saying it. I don't feel like getting my ass beat tonight though it's still on the table if I'm too lippy.

"I know you're upset, and you have right to be. I went away for too long. I won't make that mistake again," he says. For Cas, that's an 'I'm sorry' and I'm almost shocked, but then I remember he's still fucking leaving. "Things are different with us. I didn't realize what this long an absence would do to you."

I cross my still too thin arms. I've put on some weight since I've been here, but I lost a lot on the road with Cas. I need more to get back to where I was. "Stay away long as you fucking like, Cas."

"Don't be like that. I can feel your true desire to come with me."

"That's just the bond talking. I'm good, man."

That pisses him off, which I should be careful about, but I'm not, because I live life on the edge. "I've given Antoni instructions to help you deal with my absence better. Now remove your clothing. I will give you some markings, which will also help."

"I'm good, Cas. Don't do me any favors."

"I wasn't asking, Dean. So help me if you make me use my grace, you'll be sorry."

But that's what it comes to, because I get really fucking lippy, and I am sorry.

My voice is hoarse from begging him to stop, for him to show me some kind of mercy, but his answer was, "I've had enough belligerence from you. I don't care what you feel about me leaving, it's happening. This is exactly why."

When he was done with me, I was afraid of him, and he didn't mind it.

But the darkness of night wanes with the sunrise, and so does my terror, which recedes to its usual level. When I wake up, Cas is beside me in a chair, watching me sleep; when I let go my anger and heartbreak I can feel that he isn't doing as well with leaving as he'd like to be. I sit up and rub my eyes, and remember my fucking hand from last night, which is a throbbing mess. "If you don't want to go either then why go?"

"I am thinking long term Dean. I know you have probably forgotten what it was like weeks ago, but I have not."

"I remember fine, Cas. Look at me. Not far off." All that healing I did is pretty much erased.

Cas doesn't comment on my battered body. He made it perfectly clear last night that if I want to be a lippy asshole, I can suffer the consequences. "I have spoken with Antoni, you aren't applying yourself."

"That rat!"

"I asked him, he is obligated to tell me the truth. Besides, a lie would not help our situation."

"Look Cas, I accept there's nothing I can do about you leaving, or that I'm staying here, but if you think you're gonna talk me into the merits of this plan, that's asking a bit much." I still speak my mind, but I'm careful to do it respectfully.

"You are a smart human, and you will come to understand why I'm doing this over time. I have faith."

Cas and his fucking faith. But even after everything, I don't want him leaving. "Okay fine, you want me to learn shit from this guy, but why not stay?"

"Aside from that I think this is best done without me here, I must do my work for Father. That work cannot be compromised for anything."

Cas and his fucking Daddy issues. He moves to stand. "Come. I would like you to say goodbye. I will be back in two weeks."

I'm not feeling generous, but I do grab the robe Dr. O'Malley gave me, and tie it around me, and follow Cas down the stairs and to the porch. My feet are bare, so I only walk him to the edge of the porch. I make myself not cry this time; anger helps. Cas is quiet, as he takes my hand in both of his. "Dean, I do not know how humans prefer to say goodbye."

How could he not know? "You must have seen the process, Cas."

His faces manages to get harder, yet he's soft with my hands, rubbing the tops of them with his thumbs. "I do not know how _you_ prefer to say goodbye," he corrects.

I hate goodbye more than I hate anything. It's what I never got to say to my brother, and maybe that's a good thing, maybe not saying goodbye's better – what's the use in saying goodbye if you're gonna see someone again soon anyway? Then I can pretend like I'll see him tomorrow. "I don't know how I prefer goodbye either, Cas." He says he'll be back in two weeks, and I don't doubt that if he can, he will, but it's not a safe world. Anything could happen to him. It's a very real possibility I'll never see him again. _There's the real possibility I'll never see Sammy, again._

"I would like to try something I learned from watching an 80's movie," he says.

I'm so fucking curious at this odd obsession of his for us to have a goodbye, I look at him with real curiosity. "Which is?"

"I start walking away, and then I turn, and you run across the distance to me."

"And then what, Cas?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, but it seems to me, when this happens in movies, the couple has some kind of realization."

" I don't know any 80's movies like that, and it sounds fucking stupid."

He squints at me. "Try it." He lets go my hands, kinda pissed at me, and turns to head down the stairs.

Fuck him, he wants to go, fine. Goodbye, Cas. There you go, that's how humans say goodbye, they literally just say goodbye. What could I possibly hope to realize during this stupid ass exercise? Why did I pick the dumb ass, fucking weirdo angel for a mate?

As I watch Cas walk away from me, that pit in my stomach forms. The same one as always, when he goes on a hunt for food while I sleep. _Realize something, realize what?_ I'll show you realize. I turn to walk back in the house, Cas can turn to see me gone for once. Not that he'll fucking care, other than the fact that I disobeyed him _again._

I turn my body the full amount I need, to walk into the house. I'm not watching him walk away anymore, but I can't seem to take another step forward. I'm frozen, convincing myself to put one foot in front of the other, but I can't. After several minutes, I hear Cas call me. "Dean. Dean!"

 _Come on. Come the fuck on, Winchester. Just walk into the house. You don't need to pander to this shit._ Just, at least turn and look at the guy, another, smaller voice inside me says. Wave or something. That can be his fucking goodbye. Okay, guess the second voice in me is only a little bit nicer than the first. I spin around, and see him standing there, just waiting, the most pathetic set up in history. He looks so fucking pathetic.

But he's also so damn hopeful looking, especially when he spreads his arms in a gesture that says, 'come."

And fuck it. I want to go to him. I yearn to from a place that has nothing to do with the bond we forged through magic. I know because I do something I haven't in days. Smile. I know because while the bond can influence a lot of things, it can't make me smile in the way I'm smiling now. Pure love.

And so, _I give up_. I give up fighting whatever it is I'm fighting with inside. Of thinking this or that, like running after him with the purpose of stopping him. Of getting emotional, and attaching any meaning on his decision to leave.

I don't think to do anything, I just run.

I race down the steps, the rocks tear into my feet, my heart races both with the joy of loving him, and the terror of _not_ getting to say that last goodbye. I'm running so fast, I can barely draw breath. My lungs burn, but the need of getting to him, as fast as I can is greater, even though he's just standing there waiting for me, a saunter would be fine, but no. I sprint like my life depends on it.

When I reach him, I jump, and he catches me. Cas is the only one who could, figuratively, and literally and I love that. I love having someone to hold me. Don't need it often, but it's nice to have it when I do. I don't need Cas in general, but I _need_ him, figure that one out. "Cas," I say filled with relief, enjoying a moment in the sunshine, luxuriating in contentment.

"Dean," he says, and I think he's feeling the same.

"I'll do better this time. I promise." I thought I was surrendering, I thought I'd figured it out, but I hadn't. Surrender doesn't mean forcing yourself to do what you're told. Surrender means opening your heart to possibilities you don't know are there, you don't know the outcome of. It means having a little faith. I've done it before without realizing what I was doing. I can do it some more.

"Goodbye Dean," he says, as I allow my bare and bleeding feet to reach the ground, tender from the bruising run. He watches me with soft eyes, and kisses my lips, before he turns to go.

"Goodbye, Cas," I say with quiet tears streaming down my face.

As he walks away this time, I watch him in awe, and wonder what _his_ big realization was.

Over the next two weeks the doctor says there's a noticeable change in me, things also change in our daily routine. Cas gave him a list of things for me to do _for_ Cas, and it fucking helps tremendously with dealing with the bond bullshit. I feel it, but it's not unbearable agony unless I lose my grip on it; I can function, and I can do it while feeling good. Eventually I learn how to do some of it on my own without having to rely on the doctor's help all the time. Mr. O'Malley and I become good friends. More than. I start to look up to him as a surrogate uncle, or father figure.

Cas keeps his promise to come back more frequently. Goodbye never becomes easier, I always get the pit in my stomach, and cry when he leaves, but I get to strengthen my resolve to surrender.

When the day comes for him to take me with him, I know it, and I'm sad to leave. I'm going to miss doc O'Malley, hot showers, the consistent food and rest, but there's no doubt where I belong, and where I want to be.

Not to mention, fuck, Cas was right, and I'll never hear the end of it. This whole thing felt terrible to begin with, but he had the foresight to how necessary it was for our growth. _Sometimes things that seem bad, really fucking bad, aren't in the end._ That's why surrender isn't easy – you have to give something up, usually a thing that feels scary to give up, even if it's making you miserable in order to grow. _To surrender is to grow._

"I made sure to pack you some of those strudels I make you like, son," Mr. O'Malley says when I'm getting ready to leave. His eyes are wet. Mine are too.

 _I fucking love strudel; handheld pie!_ "Thank you, sir. For that and everything."

"You're going to find your brother, Dean," he says. I freeze, because I never told him that, and Cas wouldn't. "Your nightmares."

Right. I woke up screaming, a lot. He was often there.

"It's okay. Your secrets are safe with me." Y'know? I think they are. "You stay safe, Dean Winchester. And when you find him, you'd better come back for more strudel with him, or I will be unimpressed." He's proven a force under all that friendliness when he's unimpressed. It's me; I tend to take people there.

"Will do, sir."

We embrace in a hug. "Goodbye, Dean."

"Goodbye, Antoni," I whisper in his ear, knowing Cas can likely hear me. When I stand up I wink, and he laughs shaking his head.

"What did I tell you about addressing Antoni, properly," Cas says as we walk away.

Here we go.

"I did the whole time, Cas. It was just a one off."

"I don't recall saying, behave this way the whole time, but you may have a one off."

"Oh c'mon. It was appropriate."

"I decide what's appropriate, don't I?"

"All right, all right, what will it be, the rack or the chains?"

"As much as I do like the rack, _and_ chains, neither would suit the journey ahead." If it was anyone else, I would suspect sarcasm, but it's Cas, so I know it can't be.

"Something worse, then?" I ask, smiling away. I don't care what he does to me, well I suppose I do, but I also don't. I accept it, and invite it, and hope to fuck I somehow keep certain things he likes to do to me to a minimum.

"Something, _appropriate._ "

Was that a joke? No. The angel doesn't joke. "Cas? Are you joking? What does that mean? What are you planning?"

He doesn't tell me though, and I walk behind him pouting, as he smirks away.

NOW

"How much further is it, Cas?" I will go any distance for my brother, but my fucking feet feel like they're going to fall off, and I just need to know. We road our horses, so hard they expired from exhaustion. Cas can do a lot of shit with his grace, but he can't bring shit back to life. He was already risking the use of his grace, which can be tracked, to give them a boost.

When we lost them, we had to hoof it on foot. Hika circles above us, and I really wish my dragon son was big enough to fly us. Cas isn't so sure he will even when he is big enough. Apparently dragons don't like flying humans around like a taxi service, but I bet Hika will. I'd like to see Cas eat crow for once.

Cas scowls at me. "Make your dragon useful, and send him ahead. We're about a day out, but knowing what we're walking into would be profitable."

I call Hika down. Turns out he understands human very well. I still have to turn to Cas for dragon translation, but I'm starting to learn a few things. "Hey buddy," I say giving his nose a pat. He nuzzles in. "You mind going ahead and taking a look?"

He tilts his head as if to say, 'look for what?'

I have no idea how to explain. "Uh, Cas? A little help here."

Even Cas has to think a moment. "Look for people, like us," Cas says. "And Tell us what they're doing."

Hika hops around, super fucking happy to help out. "Thanks bud," I tell him. He gives me a huge, wet lick – ick for him, I must taste gross with how dirty I am – and flies off. I think we're going to keep walking but Cas remains stopped. "C'mon, Cas. We're losing sunlight."

He arches his brow, which right now, means _really?_ Cas decides what we do and what we don't do, I don't tell him what to do. I tone down the authority. By this point in our relationship, I know how it goes too well for me to even start in with that, but it's Sammy and that makes me act just a tad bit out of the ordinary. I want to get to him. Yesterday.

"Sorry, sir."

"We're stopping for a bit. You will sleep. Your feet are about to fall off."

"Okay, but for the record I could keep going," I say even as I'm tossing my bag down, intent on making it into a pillow. It kinda feels nice he noticed about my feet. The terrain has a lot more jagged rocks than I'm used to, my feet are bruised to fuck even through my boots. I wish we could have travelled back through that nice marshy fairyland, but Cas cannot bring himself to trust them yet after what happened, even with the prince and Empress helping us. It's probably better for them, for everyone if he cools off a bit before going back there. There was also the wisdom in taking a toad less travelled. We began heading through dense brush not many would use, when we had to give up our horses. It's both more dangerous and safer at the same time. More dangerous because of the creatures who live here, but safer because not somewhere we'll accidentally bump into one of Lucifer's army.

Cas sits with his back up against a tree. "Not over there, come here," he demands.

I pick my bag up and sit beside Cas waiting for further instruction, as he obviously has something in mind. "Give me your feet, lay your head at that end – you'd better fucking go to sleep, Dean."

"Jeez, Cas. I am already." What's his damn problem?

I put my feet on his lap, and he starts removing my boots. "Cas?"

He doesn't answer me, continuing on his mission, divesting me of my socks too – which must be gross as I am – and proceeds to rub them. "Are you—"

"—go to sleep, Dean."

Fuck fine. But Cas is massaging my damn feet, and it's bizarre whenever he does this; not the first time, don't think I'll ever get used to it. It feels nice though. He's gentle, pressing in the right spots, rubbing in others like he can sense which areas are too sore to press, and just need a little help relaxing the tension within them.

I do pass out despite my ever-growing anxiety to get to Gabriel's.

When Cas shakes me awake, the sun has gone down, my boots and socks are back on. "Dean, we have to go, now."

I force myself to wake up. The moon is out and offering enough light I can see Hika's returned. "Cas? What's going on?"

"It's not good, Dean. I think Gabriel's Community has been destroyed. It's hard to make out what Hikaru means."

Shit.

I grab my pack, not nearly awake enough, but the adrenaline starting to pump through me, bringing more clarity with each step. "Wha… What's the plan, Cas?"

Cas's stride has changed to the one he uses when he's on a fucking mission, the one that slices through the brush like a blade through skin. "Get there," he says.

I could have told him that. He's no fucking help though, man my feet feel a whole lot better. When he's in a better mood, I'm gonna suggest he quit the running around for his father business and open up a massage business. He'll _love_ that one. My ass won't, but it will be worth it.

When we finally arrive, it's like Hika tried to tell us. The whole community is in shambles. We have to be careful going in, because Lucifer's army is still here, which means he could be too. I had to send Hika away on a hunt for food, we'd kinda get noticed walking in with a dragon. I get my hopes up, _we're not too late, maybe I can get close to Sammy._

We manage to find Claire in the mess. "What's going?" Cas asks.

Poor Claire's missing an eye, but she's got a super cool patch. "They came, destroyed, and and took over."

"And Lucifer?" I ask.

"He's not here," she says.

As much as I'm pissed about what was done to Gabriel's community, I'm fucking gutted we missed Sammy.

"Where's Gabriel?" Cas asks. "Did he survive?"

"He is alive, far as I know. He was taken."

"Fucking, Lucifer," I say out loud. I'm going to find him, and I'm going to take him apart piece by piece. I still don't care what Cas says.

Claire shakes her head. "Lucifer? Lucifer didn't do this."

"What?" That's me.

"The man he was with had something to do with it, but I think it was the little boy."

My blood runs cold. I know the man is Sammy… but little boy…? "What happened Claire?"

"The army was large, and they trampled into the city, but Gabriel was ready to fight them. He felt confident we would win, even though we've been offered little help." That's a bit of a dig to Cas if I ever heard one. Cas gives no fucks. "But the tall man, he wasn't well, and Lucifer seemed to be distraught about it." She pauses on the word distraught, and yeah I get it, because why would Lucifer ever care about anything enough to be distraught? "The man grabbed his head, and started screaming. Lucifer tried to use his grace on him, but it only seemed to make things worse. The little boy seemed to get upset, and then suddenly everything exploded."

"What? Are they dead?" My mind jumps to the worst.

"That's just one of the many weird parts. Everyone in close proximity was obliterated, which included a lot of our warriors, but Lucifer, the man, and the boy were fine. Lucifer looked shocked, but whatever happened seemed to calm the man down. In the next moment, Lucifer had pulled the man and the boy to him, and they were gone. That event turned the tide in their favor. Gabriel had to eventually admit defeat, so as not to lose us all." Huh. Who knew Gabriel would give himself over for humans? "I watched as they put some kind of shackles on him, and threw him in a cart. That was the last I saw of him. Lucifer's minions run this place now. We're rebuilding everything."

Which means, we need to get the fuck out of here before we're noticed. There's too much chaos right now; we caught a lucky break. For once.

We thank Claire and get the fuck out of there. But when we get back to the shelter of our route through the woods, I'm fucking pissed and I throw my bag at a tree. "God dammit, Cas. We were this fucking close!" I break down letting the weight of all the terrible sink me to my knees. "You know what? I give up. I _give_ up, you hear me God?" I yell at the sky. "I give the fuck up." It's one disappointment after another. Sammy's Lucifer's now. He's too broken to be fixed by the sound of it.

I cry on my knees until Cas calmly collects me, pulling me the rest of the way to the ground with him. "Sometimes giving up is the best thing you can do," Cas says when I finally stop crying.

"What the fuck, Cas? Aren't you supposed to be telling me _never_ to give up, or some bullshit like that?"

"Maybe if I was a human, but humans haven't existed long enough to know about these kinds of laws of the universe," he says completely serious.

Great, just great. Another _angels are smarter than humans_ lecture. I don't need this shit right now. I'm about to tell him so too, welcoming a date with that nasty belt of his, so I can feel any pain, but the pain of losing my brother to a madman, but the sound of a bunch of pairs of feet softly move out of the brush.

Cas must have heard them when they were approaching and I couldn't. "A heads up would have been nice, man."

"There were too many," he says. "I thought it best you get this out of your system, before they take us in." Cas and I slowly make our way up to standing. Figures he'd be too fucking logical at a time like this.

"Well, well, well, it is you Castiel. You're quite elusive, when I felt such a strong presence, I knew it could only mean one of us."

"Leave us be, Larissa," Cas says.

"I don't think so, you're powerful, but you're outnumbered. Better to come with us, so your human doesn't lose a limb, wouldn't you say?" she says. Bitch.

Unfortunately though, she's right. They brought a crew of demons and angels, and while both Cas and I like a challenge, it would be our last challenge.

"I do like his limbs intact, yes. All right then, bring us to your leader."

Did Cas just make a reference? I think so, but I'm not sure. Either way I pretend he did, because at least there's that. I thought we got a break, but of course we fucking didn't. Not in the cards for us. I resign myself. Maybe this is how we should have gone to Lucifer all along. Just get caught, just give up… is that what it means?

Whatever it is, I surrender to it.

~SAM before the after, after the before ~

"Have you been reading the book, Samshine?"

I've looked at it several times, but I'm afraid, more afraid to read it than whatever he's about to do to me. "N-No."

He waves his hand across the air and I go flying into the wall, he pins me there. "Why haven't you?"

"It's a book of prophecy, Luci," I say shaking, hoping that explains it all – I've read the title many times – it doesn't.

"I know that. You're supposed to be a Winchester. Why haven't you charged into it by now?"

He's got the wrong brother, I want to say. That's Dean. "I will read it, Luci." _Please let me the fuck down?_

"You'll read it now, Sam."

He releases me and I fall to the floor. He storms off expecting his will to be done. Looks like I've put it off as long as I can; I knew I'd have to read it at some point. I feel something wet, and reach up to touch the blood leaking down my skull. I look in the mirror, hanging on the wall of the parlour, I barely recognize myself. _Would Dean recognize me?_ I still can't seem to grow a proper beard, but I'm trying. Lucifer hasn't seemed to mind yet. I'm sure he'll let me know if he doesn't approve.

I've got dark circles under my eyes, and the whites are red from not sleeping enough. I don't look like a guy in my early twenties; I look fifty. _How can Lucifer even be attracted to me?_ Because he is. Of all the lies he tells, that isn't one of them. He could have sex with anyone, he probably does, but he genuinely gets hard for me. I don't get it. I wouldn't be attracted to me in this state.

I pick myself up, and head to my room. I clean up my head, and then stare at the large tomb for ages. There's a name on the front I recognize from other books I've read, Jonathan Archer. He was a prophet from the same time as Roark the architect.

I've become interested in the lives of a few men in this time. Some of them were friends, and I'm picking up on love stories between various characters. I decide to approach the book reading like that. Maybe I'll find something cool out. I still don't know who Roark's Angel was.

I do the best I can, there's a lot of preamble that doesn't make much sense, and some stuff I'm going to have to ask Lucifer about. It does pull me in though, this Archer guy is a good writer, and while it is a book of prophecy, it's also a journal. He throws in bits about his life. He and Roark were buddies. Wait no, not buddies. _Brothers._ That must mean Roark is an Archer too. That excites me because I recall other books _Archer_ was referenced, but I thought referred to Jonathan. They could be referring to Roark. I still don't want to know, but since I have to, I get lost in the magic of the mystery.

It's late when Lucifer appears. "Glad to see you're reading."

"It wasn't my plan to be belligerent, Luci. I just, maybe I don't want to know anymore."

"You don't have a choice, Sam." He closes the book, and lays behind me on the bed, pulling me into his arms, kissing my neck. "Why do I smell blood?"

"You cracked my head open."

"Did I?" He moans. "Delicious." He does inspect it though. "This one isn't great Sam, you need to tell me when you're this injured."

"What difference does it make?"

"You're bleeding out. Slowly, but look, your pillow is full of blood."

It is, and I hadn't even noticed. Sometimes, I can barely feel my own body anymore, like I'm trying to remove myself from it. "Sorry." I feel the now familiar wash of grace heal the wound on my head, and now that I'm aware of it, I do feel a little lightheaded. "I thought you liked that sort of thing."

"I do, but it does me no good if you bleed out and die."

Ah. No dying. Got it. "I was enjoying that book, you know," I complain. I'm starting to feel a bit high. I'm losing consciousness.

"Time for you to sleep Sam. I'll deal with your lapse in judgment in the morning."

Odd. He doesn't sound mad. Shouldn't he be mad? I can't worry about it for the moment as I lose my battle to stay conscious, and fall asleep in his arms.


End file.
